Reading section 47

CHATURIKÁ [_aside to Vetravatí_].--The affair of the merchant's death has quite upset our royal master, and caused him sad distress. Had you not better fetch the worthy Máthavya from the Palace of Clouds to comfort him?

VETRAVATÍ.--A very good idea. [_Exit_.

KING.--Alas! the shades of my forefathers are even now beginning to be alarmed, lest at my death they may be deprived of their funeral libations. No son remains in King Dushyanta's place To offer sacred homage to the dead Of Puru's noble line: my ancestors Must drink these glistening tears, the last libation A childless man can ever hope to make them. [_Falls down in an agony of grief_.

CHATURIKÁ [_looking at him in consternation_].--Great King, compose yourself.

SÁNUMATÍ [_aside_].--Alas! alas! though a bright light is shining near him, he is involved in the blackest darkness, by reason of the veil that obscures his sight. I will now reveal all, and put an end to his misery. But no; I heard the mother of the great Indra, when she was consoling Śakoontalá, say, that the gods will soon bring about a joyful union between husband and wife, being eager for the sacrifice which will be celebrated in their honor on the occasion. I must not anticipate the happy moment, but will return at once to my dear friend and cheer her with an account of what I have seen and heard. [_Rises aloft and disappears_.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Help! help! to the rescue!

KING [_recovering himself. Listening_].--Ha! I heard a cry of distress, and in Máthavya's voice. What ho there!

VETRAVATÍ [_entering_].--Your friend is in danger; save him, great King.

KING.--Who dares insult the worthy Máthavya?

VETRAVATÍ.--Some evil demon, invisible to human eyes, has seized him, and carried him to one of the turrets of the Palace of Clouds.

KING [_rising_].--Impossible! Have evil spirits power over my subjects, even in my private apartments? Well, well-- Daily I seem less able to avert Misfortune from myself, and o'er my actions Less competent to exercise control; How can I then direct my subjects' ways, Or shelter them from tyranny and wrong?

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Halloo there! my dear friend; help! help!

KING [_advancing with rapid strides_].--Fear nothing--

THE SAME VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Fear nothing, indeed! How can I help fearing when some monster is twisting back my neck, and is about to snap it as he would a sugarcane?

KING [_looking round_].--What ho there! my bow.

SLAVE [_entering with a bow_].--Behold your bow, Sire, and your arm-guard.

[_The king snatches up the bow and arrows_.

ANOTHER VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Here, thirsting for thy life-blood, will I slay thee, As a fierce tiger rends his struggling prey. Call now thy friend Dushyanta to thy aid; His bow is mighty to defend the weak; Yet all its vaunted power shall be as nought.

KING [_with fury_].--What! dares he defy me to my face? Hold there, monster! Prepare to die, for your time is come. [_Stringing his bow_.] Vetravatí, lead the way to the terrace.

VETRAVATÍ.--This way, Sire. [_They advance in haste_.

KING [_looking on every side_].--How's this? there is nothing to be seen.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Help! Save me! I can see you, though you cannot see me. I am like a mouse in the claws of a cat; my life is not worth a moment's purchase.

KING.--Avaunt, monster! You may pride yourself on the magic that renders you invisible, but my arrow shall find you out. Thus do I fix a shaft That shall discern between an impious demon And a good Bráhman; bearing death to thee, To him deliverance--even as the swan Distinguishes the milk from worthless water. [_Takes aim_.

_Enter Mátali, holding Máthavya, whom he releases_.

MÁTALI.--Turn thou thy deadly arrows on the demons; Such is the will of Indra; let thy bow Be drawn against the enemies of the gods; But on thy friends cast only looks of favor.

KING [_putting back his arrow_].--What, Mátali! Welcome, most noble charioteer of the mighty Indra.

MÁTHAVYA.--So, here is a monster who thought as little about slaughtering me as if I had been a bullock for sacrifice, and you must e'en greet him with a welcome.

MÁTALI [_smiling_].--Great Prince, hear on what errand Indra sent me into your presence.

KING.--I am all attention.

MÁTALI.--There is a race of giants, the descendants of Kálanemi, whom the gods find difficult to subdue.

KING.--So I have already heard from Nárada.

MÁTALI.--Heaven's mighty lord, who deigns to call thee "friend," Appoints thee to the post of highest honor, As leader of his armies; and commits The subjugation of this giant brood To thy resistless arms, e'en as the sun Leaves the pale moon to dissipate the darkness.

Let your Majesty, therefore, ascend at once the celestial car of Indra; and, grasping your arms, advance to victory.

KING.--The mighty Indra honors me too highly by such a mark of distinction. But tell me, what made you act thus towards my poor friend Máthavya?

MÁTALI.--I will tell you. Perceiving that your Majesty's spirit was completely broken by some distress of mind under which you were laboring, I determined to rouse your energies by moving you to anger. Because To light a flame, we need but stir the embers; The cobra, when incensed, extends his head And springs upon his foe; the bravest men Display their courage only when provoked.

KING [_aside to Máthavya_].--My dear Máthavya, the commands of the great Indra must not be left unfulfilled. Go you and acquaint my minister, Piśuna, with what has happened, and say to him from me, Dushyanta to thy care confides his realm-- Protect with all the vigor of thy mind The interests of my people; while my bow Is braced against the enemies of heaven.

MÁTHAVYA.--I obey. [_Exit._

MÁTALI.--Ascend, illustrious Prince. [_The King ascends the car. Exeunt_.

[41] The Köil is the Indian cuckoo. It is sometimes called Parabhrita (nourished by another) because the female is known to leave her eggs in the nest of the crow to be hatched. The bird is a great favorite with the Indian poets, as the nightingale with Europeans.

[42] Palace of King Dushyanta, so-called because it was as lofty as the clouds.

ACT SEVENTH

Scene.--The Sky

_Enter King Dushyanta and Mátali in the car of Indra, moving in the air_.

KING.--My good Mátali, it appears to me incredible that I can merit such a mark of distinction for having simply fulfilled the behests of the great Indra.

MÁTALI [_smiling_].--Great Prince, it seems to me that neither of you is satisfied with himself-- You underrate the service you have rendered, And think too highly of the god's reward: He deems it scarce sufficient recompense For your heroic deeds on his behalf.

KING.--Nay, Mátali, say not so. My most ambitious expectations were more than realized by the honor conferred on me at the moment when I took my leave. For, Tinged with celestial sandal, from the breast Of the great Indra, where before it hung, A garland of the ever-blooming tree Of Nandana was cast about my neck By his own hand: while, in the very presence Of the assembled gods, I was enthroned Beside their mighty lord, who smiled to see His son Jayanta envious of the honor.

MÁTALI.--There is no mark of distinction which your Majesty does not deserve at the hands of the immortals. See, Heaven's hosts acknowledge thee their second saviour; For now thy bow's unerring shafts (as erst The lion-man's terrific claws) have purged The empyreal sphere from taint of demons foul.

KING.--The praise of my victory must be ascribed to the majesty of Indra. When mighty gods make men their delegates In martial enterprise, to them belongs The palm of victory; and not to mortals. Could the pale Dawn dispel the shades of night, Did not the god of day, whose diadem Is jewelled with a thousand beams of light, Place him in front of his effulgent car?

MÁTALI.--A very just comparison. [_Driving on._] Great King, behold! the glory of thy fame has reached even to the vault of heaven. Hark! yonder inmates of the starry sphere Sing anthems worthy of thy martial deeds, While with celestial colors they depict The story of thy victories on scrolls Formed of the leaves of heaven's immortal trees.

KING.--My good Mátali, yesterday, when I ascended the sky, I was so eager to do battle with the demons, that the road by which we were travelling towards Indra's heaven escaped my observation. Tell me, in which path of the seven winds are we now moving?

MÁTALI.--We journey in the path of Parivaha; The wind that bears along the triple Ganges, And causes Ursa's seven stars to roll In their appointed orbits, scattering Their several rays with equal distribution. 'Tis the same path that once was sanctified By the divine impression of the foot Of Vishnu, when, to conquer haughty Bali, He spanned the heavens in his second stride.

KING.--This is the reason, I suppose, that a sensation of calm repose pervades all my senses. [_Looking down at the wheels._] Ah! Mátali, we are descending towards the earth's atmosphere.

MÁTALI.--What makes you think so?

KING.--The car itself instructs me; we are moving O'er pregnant clouds, surcharged with rain; below us I see the moisture-loving Chátakas In sportive flight dart through the spokes; the steeds Of Indra glisten with the lightning's flash; And a thick mist bedews the circling wheels.

MÁTALI.--You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions.

KING [_looking down_],--How wonderful is the appearance of the earth as we rapidly descend! Stupendous prospect! yonder lofty hills Do suddenly uprear their towering heads Amid the plain, while from beneath their crests The ground receding sinks; the trees, whose stems Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses, Rise into elevation, and display Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters, Like silver threads, but now were scarcely seen, Grow into mighty rivers; lo! the earth Seems upward hurled by some gigantic power.

MÁTALI.--Well described! [_Looking with awe._] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the spectacle presented by the earth.

KING.--Tell me, Mátali, what is that range of mountains which, like a bank of clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a stream of gold? On one side its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side into the western.

MÁTALI.--Great Prince, it is called "Golden-peak,"[43] and is the abode of the attendants of the god of Wealth. In this spot the highest forms of penance are wrought out. There Kaśyapa, the great progenitor Of demons and of gods, himself the offspring Of the divine Maríchi, Brahmá's son, With Aditi, his wife, in calm seclusion, Does holy penance for the good of mortals.

KING.--Then I must not neglect so good an opportunity of obtaining his blessing. I should much like to visit this venerable personage and offer him my homage.