Reading section 39

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--Venerable mother, there is certainly a change for the better.

GAUTAMÍ.--Let me sprinkle you with this holy water, and all your ailments will depart. [_Sprinkling Śakoontalá on the head_.] The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage. [_They all move away_.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--Oh my heart! thou didst fear to taste of happiness when it was within thy reach. Now that the object of thy desires is torn from thee, how bitter will be thy remorse, how distracting thine anguish! [_Moving on a few steps and stopping. Aloud_.] Farewell! bower of creepers, sweet soother of my sufferings, farewell! may I soon again be happy under thy shade. [_Exit reluctantly with the others_.

KING [_returning to his former seat in the arbor. Sighing_].--Alas! how many are the obstacles to the accomplishment of our wishes! Albeit she did coyly turn away Her glowing cheek, and with her fingers guard Her pouting lips, that murmured a denial In faltering accents, she did yield herself A sweet reluctant captive to my will, As eagerly I raised her lovely face: But ere with gentle force I stole the kiss, Too envious Fate did mar my daring purpose. Whither now shall I betake myself? I will tarry for a brief space in this bower of creepers, so endeared to me by the presence of my beloved Śakoontalá. [_Looking round_. Here printed on the flowery couch I see The fair impression of her slender limbs; Here is the sweet confession of her love, Traced with her nail upon the lotus leaf-- And yonder are the withered lily stalks That graced her wrist. While all around I view Things that recall her image, can I quit This bower, e'en though its living charm be fled?

A VOICE [_in the air_].--Great King, Scarce is our evening sacrifice begun, When evil demons, lurid as the clouds That gather round the dying orb of day, Cluster in hideous troops, obscene and dread, About our altars, casting far and near Terrific shadows, while the sacred fire Sheds a pale lustre o'er their ghostly shapes.

KING.--I come to the rescue, I come. [_Exit._

[38] Káma, the Hindoo Cupid, or god of love. He has five arrows, each tipped with the blossom of a flower, which pierce the heart through the five senses.

[39] A marriage without the usual ceremonies is called Gándharva. It was supposed to be the form of marriage prevalent among the nymphs of Indra's heaven.

PRELUDE TO ACT FOURTH

Scene.--The Garden of the Hermitage

_Enter Priyamvadá and Anasúyá in the act of gathering flowers_.

ANASÚYÁ.--Although, dear Priyamvadá, it rejoices my heart to think that Śakoontalá has been happily united to a husband in every respect worthy of her, by the form of marriage prevalent among Indra's celestial musicians, nevertheless, I cannot help feeling somewhat uneasy in my mind.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--How so?

ANASÚYÁ.--You know that the pious King was gratefully dismissed by the hermits on the successful termination of their sacrificial rites. He has now returned to his capital, leaving Śakoontalá under our care; and it may be doubted whether, in the society of his royal consorts, he will not forget all that has taken place in this hermitage of ours.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--On that score be at ease. Persons of his noble nature are not so destitute of all honorable feeling. I confess, however, that there is one point about which I am rather anxious. What, think you, will father Kanwa say when he hears what has occurred?

ANASÚYÁ.--In my opinion, he will approve the marriage.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--What makes you think so?

ANASÚYÁ.--From the first, it was always his fixed purpose to bestow the maiden on a husband worthy of her; and since heaven has given her such a husband, his wishes have been realized without any trouble to himself.

PRIYAMVADÁ [_looking at the flower-basket_].--We have gathered flowers enough for the sacred offering, dear Anasúyá.

ANASÚYÁ.--Well, then, let us now gather more, that we may have wherewith to propitiate the guardian-deity of our dear Śakoontalá.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--By all means. [_They continue gathering_.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Ho there! See you not that I am here?

ANASÚYÁ [_listening_].--That must be the voice of a guest announcing his arrival.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--Surely, Śakoontalá is not absent from the cottage. [_Aside_.] Her heart at least is absent, I fear.

ANASÚYÁ.--Come along, come along; we have gathered flowers enough. [_They move away_.

THE SAME VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Woe to thee, maiden, for daring to slight a guest like me! Shall I stand here unwelcomed; even I, A very mine of penitential merit, Worthy of all respect? Shalt thou, rash maid, Thus set at nought the ever sacred ties Of hospitality? and fix thy thoughts Upon the cherished object of thy love, While I am present? Thus I curse thee, then-- He, even he of whom thou thinkest, he Shall think no more of thee; nor in his heart Retain thine image. Vainly shalt thou strive To waken his remembrance of the past; He shall disown thee, even as the sot, Roused from his midnight drunkenness, denies The words he uttered in his revellings.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--Alas! alas! I fear a terrible misfortune has occurred. Śakoontalá, from absence of mind, must have offended some guest whom she was bound to treat with respect. [_Looking behind the scenes_.] Ah! yes; I see, and no less a person than the great sage Durvasas, who is known to be most irascible. He it is that has just cursed her, and is now retiring with hasty strides, trembling with passion, and looking as if nothing could turn him. His wrath is like a consuming fire.

ANASÚYÁ.--Go quickly, dear Priyamvadá, throw yourself at his feet, and persuade him to come back, while I prepare a propitiatory offering for him, with water and refreshments.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--I will. [_Exit._

ANASÚYÁ [_advancing hastily a few steps and stumbling_].--Alas! alas! this comes of being in a hurry. My foot has slipped and my basket of flowers has fallen from my hand. [_Stays to gather them up_.

PRIYAMVADÁ [_reëntering_].--Well, dear Anasúyá, I have done my best; but what living being could succeed in pacifying such a cross-grained, ill-tempered old fellow? However, I managed to mollify him a little.

ANASÚYÁ [_smiling_].--Even a little was much for him. Say on.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--When he refused to turn back, I implored his forgiveness in these words: "Most venerable sage, pardon, I beseech you, this first offence of a young and inexperienced girl, who was ignorant of the respect due to your saintly character and exalted rank."

ANASÚYÁ.--And what did he reply?

PRIYAMVADÁ.--"My word must not be falsified; but at the sight of the ring of recognition the spell shall cease." So saying, he disappeared.

ANASÚYÁ.--Oh! then we may breathe again; for now I think of it, the King himself, at his departure, fastened on Śakoontalá's finger, as a token of remembrance, a ring on which his own name was engraved. She has, therefore, a remedy for her misfortune at her own command.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--Come, dear Anasúyá, let us proceed with our religious duties. [_They walk away_.

PRIYAMVADÁ [_looking off the stage_].--See, Anasúyá, there sits our dear friend, motionless as a statue, resting her face on her left hand, her whole mind absorbed in thinking of her absent husband. She can pay no attention to herself, much less to a stranger.

ANASÚYÁ.--Priyamvadá, let this affair never pass our lips. We must spare our dear friend's feelings. Her constitution is too delicate to bear much emotion.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--I agree with you. Who would think of watering a tender jasmine with hot water?

ACT FOURTH

Scene.--The Neighborhood of the Hermitage

_Enter one of Kanwa's pupils, just arisen from his couch at the dawn of day_.

PUPIL.--My master, the venerable Kanwa, who is but lately returned from his pilgrimage, has ordered me to ascertain how the time goes. I have therefore come into the open air to see if it be still dark. [_Walking and looking about_.] Oh! the dawn has already broken. Lo! in one quarter of the sky, the Moon, Lord of the herbs and night-expanding flowers, Sinks towards his bed behind the western hills; While in the east, preceded by the Dawn, His blushing charioteer, the glorious Sun Begins his course, and far into the gloom Casts the first radiance of his orient beams, Hail! co-eternal orbs, that rise to set, And set to rise again; symbols divine Of man's reverses, life's vicissitudes. And now, While the round Moon withdraws his looming disc Beneath the western sky, the full-blown flower Of the night-loving lotus sheds her leaves In sorrow for his loss, bequeathing nought But the sweet memory of her loveliness To my bereavèd sight: e'en as the bride Disconsolately mourns her absent lord, And yields her heart a prey to anxious grief.

ANASÚYÁ [_entering abruptly_].--Little as I know of the ways of the world, I cannot help thinking that King Dushyanta is treating Śakoontalá very improperly.

PUPIL.--Well, I must let my revered preceptor know that it is time to offer the burnt oblation. [_Exit._

ANASÚYÁ.--I am broad awake, but what shall I do? I have no energy to go about my usual occupations. My hands and feet seem to have lost their power. Well, Love has gained his object; and Love only is to blame for having induced our dear friend, in the innocence of her heart, to confide in such a perfidious man. Possibly, however, the imprecation of Durvasas may be already taking effect. Indeed, I cannot otherwise account for the King's strange conduct, in allowing so long a time to elapse without even a letter; and that, too, after so many promises and protestations. I cannot think what to do, unless we send him the ring which was to be the token of recognition. But which of these austere hermits could we ask to be the bearer of it? Then, again, Father Kanwa has just returned from his pilgrimage: and how am I to inform him of Śakoontalá's marriage to King Dushyanta, and her expectation of being soon a mother? I never could bring myself to tell him, even if I felt that Śakoontalá had been in fault, which she certainly has not. What is to be done?

PRIYAMVADÁ [_entering; joyfully_].--Quick! quick! Anasúyá! come and assist in the joyful preparations for Śakoontalá's departure to her husband's palace.

ANASÚYÁ.--My dear girl, what can you mean?

PRIYAMVADÁ.--Listen, now, and I will tell you all about it. I went just now to Śakoontalá, to inquire whether she had slept comfortably--

ANASÚYÁ.--Well, well; go on.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--She was sitting with her face bowed down to the very ground with shame, when Father Kanwa entered and, embracing her, of his own accord offered her his congratulations. "I give thee joy, my child," he said, "we have had an auspicious omen. The priest who offered the oblation dropped it into the very centre of the sacred fire, though thick smoke obstructed his vision. Henceforth thou wilt cease to be an object of compassion. This very day I purpose sending thee, under the charge of certain trusty hermits, to the King's palace; and shall deliver thee into the hands of thy husband, as I would commit knowledge to the keeping of a wise and faithful student."

ANASÚYÁ.--Who, then, informed the holy Father of what passed in his absence?

PRIYAMVADÁ.--As he was entering the sanctuary of the consecrated fire, an invisible being chanted a verse in celestial strains.

ANASÚYÁ [_with astonishment_].--Indeed! pray repeat it.

PRIYAMVADÁ [_repeats the verse_].-- Glows in thy daughter King Dushyanta's glory, As in the sacred tree the mystic fire. Let worlds rejoice to hear the welcome story; And may the son immortalize the sire.

ANASÚYÁ [_embracing Priyamvadá_].--Oh, my dear Priyamvadá, what delightful news! I am pleased beyond measure; yet when I think that we are to lose our dear Śakoontalá this very day, a feeling of melancholy mingles with my joy.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--We shall find means of consoling ourselves after her departure. Let the dear creature only be made happy, at any cost.

ANASÚYÁ.--Yes, yes, Priyamvadá, it shall be so; and now to prepare our bridal array. I have always looked forward to this occasion, and some time since, I deposited a beautiful garland of Keśara flowers in a cocoa-nut box, and suspended it on a bough of yonder mango-tree. Be good enough to stretch out your hand and take it down, while I compound unguents and perfumes with this consecrated paste and these blades of sacred grass.

PRIYAMVADÁ.--Very well.