Chapter 3

SCENE.--_The Sacred Grove_.

_Enter_ KING DUSHYANTA, _with the air of one in love_.

KING. [_Sighing thoughtfully_.

The holy sage possesses magic power In virtue of his penance; she, his ward, Under the shadow of his tutelage, Rests in security, I know it well; Yet sooner shall the rushing cataract In foaming eddies re-ascend the steep, Than my fond heart turn back from its pursuit.

God of love! God of the flowery shafts [47]! we lovers are cruelly deceived by thee, and by the Moon, however deserving of confidence you may both appear.

For not to us do these thine arrows seem Pointed with tender flowerets; not to us Doth the pale Moon irradiate the earth With beams of silver fraught with cooling dews; But on our fevered frames the moon-beams fall Like darts of fire, and every flower-tipt shaft Of Káma[47], as it probes our throbbing hearts, Seems to be barbed with hardest adamant.

Adorable god of love! hast thou no pity for me?

[_In a tone of anguish_.]

How can thy arrows be so sharp when they are pointed with flowers? Ah! I know the reason:

E'en now in thine unbodied essence lurks The fire of [S']iva's anger[48], like the flame That ever hidden in the secret depths Of ocean, smoulders there unseen[49]. How else Could'st thou, all immaterial as thou art, Inflame our hearts thus fiercely?--thou, whose form Was scorched to ashes by a sudden flash From the offended god's terrific eye.

Yet, methinks,

Welcome this anguish, welcome to my heart These rankling wounds inflicted by the god, Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish[50] Slain by his prowess; welcome death itself, So that, commissioned by the lord of love, This fair one be my executioner. Adorable divinity! Can I by no reproaches excite your commiseration? Have I not daily offered at thy shrine Innumerable vows, the only food Of thine ethereal essence? Are my prayers Thus to be slighted? Is it meet that thou Should'st aim thy shafts at thy true votary's heart, Drawing thy bow-string even to thy ear?

[_Pacing up and down in a melancholy manner_.]

Now that the holy men have completed their rites, and have no more need of my services, how shall I dispel my melancholy?

[_Sighing_.]

I have but one resource. Oh for another sight of the Idol of my soul! I will seek her.

[_Glancing at the sun_.]

In all probability, as the sun's heat is now at its height, [S']akoontalá is passing her time under the shade of the bowers on the banks of the Máliní, attended by her maidens. I will go and look for her there.

[_Walking and looking about_.]

I suspect the fair one has but just passed by this avenue of young trees.

Here, as she tripped along, her fingers plucked The opening buds; these lacerated plants, Shorn of their fairest blossoms by her hand, Seem like dismembered trunks, whose recent wounds Are still unclosed; while from the bleeding socket Of many a severed stalk, the milky juice Still slowly trickles, and betrays her path.

[_Feeling a breeze_.]

What a delicious breeze meets me in this spot!

Here may the zephyr, fragrant with the scent Of lotuses, and laden with the spray Caught from the waters of the rippling stream, Fold in its close embrace my fevered limbs.

[_Walking and looking about_.]

She must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of this arbour of overhanging creepers enclosed by plantations of cane;

[_Looking down_.]

For at the entrance here I plainly see A line of footsteps printed in the sand. Here are the fresh impressions of her feet; Their well-known outline faintly marked in front, More deeply towards the heel; betokening The graceful undulation of her gait[51].

I will peep through those branches.

[_Walking and looking. With transport_.]

Ah! now my eyes are gratified by an entrancing sight. Yonder is the beloved of my heart reclining on a rock strewn with flowers, and attended by her two friends. How fortunate! Concealed behind the leaves, I will listen to their conversation, without raising their suspicions.

[_Stands concealed, and gazes at them_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ _and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands, are discovered as described_.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

[_Fanning her. In a tone of affection_.

Dearest [S']akoontalá, is the breeze raised by these broad lotus-leaves refreshing to you?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Dear friends, why should you trouble yourselves to fan me?

[PRIYAMVADÁ _and_ ANASÚYÁ _look sorrowfully at one another_.

KING.

[S']akoontalá seems indeed to be seriously ill.

[_Thoughtfully_.]

Can it be the intensity of the heat that has affected her? or does my heart suggest the true cause of her malady?

[_Gazing at her passionately_.]

Why should I doubt it?

The maiden's spotless bosom is o'erspread With cooling balsam; on her slender arm Her only bracelet, twined with lotus-stalks, Hangs loose and withered; her recumbent form Betokens languor. Ne'er could noon-day sun Inflict such fair disorder on a maid-- No, love, and love alone, is here to blame.

PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aside to_ ANASÚYÁ.

I have observed, Anasúyá, that [S']akoontalá has been indisposed ever since her first interview with King Dushyanta. Depend upon it, her ailment is to be traced to that source.

ANASÚYÁ.

The same suspicion, dear, has crossed my mind. But I will at once ask her and ascertain the truth.

[_Aloud_.]

Dear [S']akoontalá, I am about to put a question to you. Your indisposition is really very serious.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Half rising from her couch_.

What were you going to ask?

ANASÚYÁ.

We know very little about love-matters, dear [S']akoontalá; but for all that, I cannot help suspecting your present state to be something similar to that of the lovers we have heard about in romances. Tell us frankly what is the cause of your disorder. It is useless to apply a remedy, until the disease be understood.

KING.

Anasúyá bears me out in my suspicion.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_.

I am, indeed, deeply in love; but cannot rashly disclose my passion to these young girls.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

What Anasúyá says, dear [S']akoontalá, is very just. Why give so little heed to your ailment? Every day you are becoming thinner; though I must confess your complexion is still as beautiful as ever.

KING.

Priyamvadá speaks most truly.

Sunk is her velvet cheek; her wasted bosom Loses its fulness; e'en her slender waist Grows more attenuate; her face is wan, Her shoulders droop;--as when the vernal blasts Sear the young blossoms of the Mádhaví[52], Blighting their bloom; so mournful is the change. Yet in its sadness, fascinating still, Inflicted by the mighty lord of love On the fair figure of the hermit's daughter.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Dear friends, to no one would I rather reveal the nature of my malady than to you; but I should only be troubling you.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

Nay, this is the very point about which we are so solicitous. Sorrow shared with affectionate friends is relieved of half its poignancy.

KING.

Pressed by the partners of her joys and griefs, Her much beloved companions, to reveal The cherished secret locked within her breast, She needs must utter it; although her looks Encourage me to hope, my bosom throbs As anxiously I listen for her answer.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Know then, dear friends, that from the first moment the illustrious Prince who is the guardian of our sacred grove presented himself to my sight--

[_Stops short, and appears confused_.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

Say on, dear [S']akoontalá, say on.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Ever since that happy moment, my heart's affections have been fixed upon him, and my energies of mind and body have all deserted me, as you see.

KING. [_With rapture_.

Her own lips have uttered the words I most longed to hear.

Love lit the flame, and Love himself allays My burning fever, as when gathering clouds Rise o'er the earth in summer's dazzling noon, And grateful showers dispel the morning heat.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

You must consent, then, dear friends, to contrive some means by which I may find favour with the King, or you will have ere long to assist at my funeral.

KING.

Enough! These words remove all my doubts.

PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aside to_ ANASÚYÁ.

She is far gone in love, dear Anasúyá, and no time ought to be lost. Since she has fixed her affections on a monarch who is the ornament of Puru's line, we need not hesitate for a moment to express our approval.

ANASÚYÁ.

I quite agree with you.

PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aloud_.

We wish you joy, dear [S']akoontalá. Your affections are fixed on an object in every respect worthy of you,. The noblest river will unite itself to the ocean, and the lovely Mádhaví-creeper clings naturally to the Mango, the only tree capable of supporting it.

KING.

Why need we wonder if the beautiful constellation Vi[s']ákhá pines to be united with the Moon[53]?

ANASÚYÁ.

By what stratagem can we best secure to our friend the accomplishment of her heart's desire both speedily and secretly?

PRIYAMVADÁ.

The latter point is all we have to think about. As to 'speedily,' I look upon the whole affair as already settled.

ANASÚYÁ.

How so?

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Did you not observe how the King betrayed his liking by the tender manner in which he gazed upon her, and how thin he has become the last few days, as if he had been lying awake thinking of her?

KING. [_Looking at himself_.

Quite true! I certainly am becoming thin from want of sleep:

As night by night in anxious thought I raise This wasted arm to rest my sleepless head, My jewelled bracelet, sullied by the tears That trickle from my eyes in scalding streams, Slips towards my elbow from my shrivelled wrist. Oft I replace the bauble, but in vain; So easily it spans the fleshless limb That e'en the rough and corrugated skin, Scarred by the bow-string, will not check its fall[54].

PRIYAMVADÁ.

An idea strikes me, Anasúyá. Let [S']akoontalá write a love-letter; I will conceal it in a flower, and contrive to drop it in the King's path. He will surely mistake it for the remains of some sacred offering, and will, in all probability, pick it up.

ANASÚYÁ.

A very ingenious device! It my entire approval; but what says [S']akoontalá?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

I must consider before I can consent to it.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Could, you not, dear [S']akoontalá, think of some pretty composition in verse, containing a delicate declaration of your love?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Well, I will do my best; but my heart trembles when I think of the chances of a refusal.

KING. [_With rapture_.

Too timid maid, here stands the man from whom Thou fearest a repulse; supremely blessed To call thee all his own. Well might he doubt His title to thy love; but how could'st thou Believe thy beauty powerless to subdue him?

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

You undervalue your own merits, dear [S']akoontalá. What man in his senses would intercept with the skirt of his robe the bright rays of the autumnal moon, which alone can allay the fever of his body?

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Smiling_.

Then it seems I must do as I am bid.

[_Sits down and appears to be thinking_.

KING.

How charming she looks! My very eyes forget to wink, jealous of losing even for an instant a sight so enchanting.

How beautiful the movement of her brow, As through her mind love's tender fancies flow! And, as she weighs her thoughts, how sweet to trace The ardent passion mantling in her face!

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Dear girls, I have thought of a verse, but I have no writing-materials at hand.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Write the letters with your nail on this lotus-leaf, which is smooth as a parrot's breast.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_After writing the verse_.

Listen, dear friends, and tell me whether the ideas are appropriately expressed.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

We are all attention.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Reads_.

I know not the secret thy bosom conceals, Thy form is not near me to gladden my sight; But sad is the tale that my fever reveals, Of the love that consumes me by day and by night.

KING. [_Advancing hastily towards her_.

Nay, Love does but warm thee, fair maiden,--thy frame Only droops like the bud in the glare of the noon; But me he consumes with a pitiless flame, As the beams of the day-star destroy the pale moon.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

[_Looking at him joyfully and rising to salute him_.

Welcome, the desire of our hearts, that so speedily presents itself!

[[S']AKOONTALÁ _makes an effort to rise_.

KING.

Nay, trouble not thyself, dear maiden.

Move not to do me homage; let thy limbs Still softly rest upon their flowery couch; And gather fragrance from the lotus-stalks, Bruised by the fevered contact of thy frame.

ANASÚYÁ.

Deign, gentle Sir, to seat yourself on the rock on which our friend is reposing.

[_The_ KING _sits down_. [S']AKOONTALÁ _is confused_.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Any one may see at a glance that you are deeply attached to each other. But the affection I have for my friend prompts me to say something of which you hardly require to be informed.

KING.

Do not hesitate to speak out, my good girl. If you omit to say what is in your mind, you may be sorry for it afterwards.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Is it not your special office as a King to remove the suffering of your subjects who are in trouble?

KING.

Such is my duty, most assuredly.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Know, then, that our dear friend has been brought to her present state of suffering entirely through love for you. Her life is in your hands; take pity on her and restore her to health.

KING.

Excellent maiden, our attachment is mutual. It is I who am the most honoured by it.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Looking at PRIYAMVADÁ_.

What do you mean by detaining the King, who must be anxious to return to his royal consorts after so long a separation?

KING.

Sweet maiden, banish from thy mind the thought That I could love another. Thou dost reign Supreme, without a rival, in my heart, And I am thine alone; disown me not, Else must I die a second deadlier death, Killed by thy words, as erst by Káma's[47] shafts.

ANASÚYÁ.

Kind Sir, we have heard it said that kings have many favourite consorts. You must not, then, by your behaviour towards our dear friend, give her relations cause to sorrow for her.

KING.

Listen, gentle maiden, while in a few words I quiet your anxiety.

Though many beauteous forms my palace grace, Henceforth two things alone will I esteem The glory of my royal dynasty-- My sea-girt realm, and this most lovely maid.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

We are satisfied by your assurances.

PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Glancing on one side_.

See, Anasúyá, there is our favourite little fawn running about in great distress, and turning its eyes in every direction as if looking for its mother; come, let us help the little thing to find her. [_Both move away_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Dear friends, dear friends, leave me not alone and unprotected. Why need you both go?

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.

Unprotected! when the Protector of the world is at your side.

[_Exeunt_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

What! have they both really left me?

KING.

Distress not thyself, sweet maiden. Thy adorer is at hand to wait upon thee.

Oh let me tend thee, fair one, in the place Of thy dear friends; and with broad lotus fans Raise cooling breezes to refresh thy frame; Or shall I rather, with caressing touch, Allay the fever of thy limbs, and soothe Thy aching feet, beauteous as blushing lilies?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Nay, touch me not. I will not incur the censure of those whom I am bound to respect.

[_Rises and attempts to go_.

KING.

Fair one, the heat of noon has not yet subsided, and thy body is still feeble.

How canst thou quit thy fragrant couch of flowers, And from thy throbbing bosom cast aside Its covering of lotus-leaves, to brave With weak and fainting limbs the noon-day heat?

[_Forces her to turn back_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Infringe not the rules of decorum, mighty descendant of Puru. Remember, though I love you, I have no power to dispose of myself.

KING.

Why this fear of offending your relations, timid maid? When your venerable foster-father hears of it, he will not find fault with you. He knows that the law permits us to be united without consulting him.

In Indra's heaven, so at least 'tis said, No nuptial rites prevail[55], nor is the bride Led to the altar by her future lord; But all in secret does the bridegroom plight His troth, and each unto the other vow Mutual allegiance. Such espousals, too, Are authorised on earth, and many daughters Of royal saints thus wedded to their lords Have still received their father's benison.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Leave me, leave me; I must take counsel with my female friends.

KING.

I will leave thee when--

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

When?

KING.

When I have gently stolen from thy lips Their yet untasted nectar, to allay The raging of my thirst, e'en as the bee Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud.

[_Attempts to raise her face_. [S']AKOONTALÁ tries to prevent him_.

A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.

The loving birds, doomed by fate to nightly separation[56], must bid farewell to each other, for evening is at hand.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_In confusion_.

Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches.

KING.

I will. [_Conceals himself_.

_Enter_ GAUTAMÍ _with a vase in her hand, preceded by two attendants_.

ATTENDANTS.

This way, most venerable Gautamí.

GAUTAMÍ. [_Approaching_ [S']AKOONTALÁ.

My child, is the fever of thy limbs allayed?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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_ [S']AKOONTALÁ on the head_.]

The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage.

[_They all move away_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_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 arbour. 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 [S']akoontalá.

[_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 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_.

* * * * *

PRELUDE TO ACT IV.

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 [S']akoontalá 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 [S']akoontalá 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 honourable 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 [S']akoontalá.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

By all means.

[_They continue gathering_.

A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.

Ho there! See you not that I am here!

ANASÚYÁ.

That must be the voice of a guest announcing his arrival.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Surely, [S']akoontalá 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. [S']akoontalá, 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 Durvásas[57], 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[59] 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. [_Re-entering_

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 [S']akoontalá'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 round_.

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?