Priyamvada. Nothing burns like fire. Run, fall at his feet, bring him back, while I am getting water to wash his feet.
Anusuya. I will. (Exit.)
Priyamvada (stumbling). There! I stumbled in my excitement, and the flower-basket fell out of my hand. (She collects the scattered flowers.
Anusuya
returns.)
Anusuya. My dear, he is anger incarnate. Who could appease him? But I softened him a little.
Priyamvada. Even that is a good deal for him. Tell me about it.
Anusuya. When he would not turn back, I fell at his feet and prayed to him. “Holy sir,” I said, “remember her former devotion and pardon this offence. Your daughter did not recognise your great and holy power to-day.”
Priyamvada. And then -
Anusuya. Then he said: “My words must be fulfilled. But the curse shall be lifted when her lover sees a gem which he has given her for a token.” And so he vanished.
Priyamvada. We can breathe again. When the good king went away, he put a ring, engraved with his own name, on Shakuntala’s finger to remember him by. That will save her.
Anusuya. Come, we must finish the sacrifice for her. (They walk about.) Priyamvada (gazing). Just look, Anusuya! There is the dear girl, with her cheek resting on her left hand. She looks like a painted picture. She is thinking about him. How could she notice a guest when she has forgotten herself?
Anusuya. Priyamvada, we two must keep this thing to ourselves. We must be careful of the dear girl. You know how delicate she is.
Priyamvada. Would any one sprinkle a jasmine-vine with scalding water? (Exeunt ambo.)
SCENE II - Early Morning
(Enter a pupil of Kanva, just risen from sleep.) Pupil. Father Kanva has returned from his pilgrimage, and has bidden me find out what time it is. I will go into the open air and see how much of the night remains. (He walks and looks about.) See! The dawn is breaking.
For already
The moon behind the western mount is sinking;
The eastern sun is heralded by dawn;
From heaven’s twin lights, their fall and glory linking, Brave lessons of submission may be drawn.
And again:
Night-blooming lilies, when the moon is hidden,
Have naught but memories of beauty left.
Hard, hard to bear! Her lot whom heaven has bidden
To live alone, of love and lover reft.
And again:
On jujube-trees the blushing dewdrops falter;
The peacock wakes and leaves the cottage thatch;
A deer is rising near the hoof-marked altar,
And stretching, stands, the day’s new life to catch.
And yet again:
The moon that topped the loftiest mountain ranges,
That slew the darkness in the midmost sky, Is fallen from heaven, and all her glory changes:
So high to rise, so low at last to lie!
Anusuya (entering hurriedly. To herself). That is just what happens to the innocent. Shakuntala has been treated shamefully by the king.
Pupil. I will tell Father Kanva that the hour of morning sacrifice is come. (Exit.)
Anusuya. The dawn is breaking. I am awake bright and early. But what shall I do now that I am awake? My hands refuse to attend to the ordinary morning tasks. Well, let love take its course. For the dear, pure-minded girl trusted him - the traitor! Perhaps it is not the good king’s fault. It must be the curse of Durvasas. Otherwise, how could the good king say such beautiful things, and then let all this time pass without even sending a message? (She reflects.) Yes, we must send him the ring he left as a token. But whom shall we ask to take it? The hermits are unsympathetic because they have never suffered. It seemed as if her friends were to blame and so, try as we might, we could not tell Father Kanva that Shakuntala was married to Dushyanta and was expecting a baby. Oh, what shall we do? (Enter Priyamvada.) Priyamvada. Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! We are getting Shakuntala ready for her journey.
Anusuya (astonished). What do you mean, my dear?
Priyamvada. Listen. I just went to Shakuntala, to ask if she had slept well.
Anusuya. And then -
Priyamvada. I found her hiding her face for shame, and Father Kanva was embracing her and encouraging her. “My child,” he said, “I bring you joy. The offering fell straight in the sacred fire, and auspicious smoke rose toward the sacrificer. My pains for you have proved like instruction given to a good student; they have brought me no regret. This very day I shall give you an escort of hermits and send you to your husband.”
Anusuya. But, my dear, who told Father Kanva about it?
Priyamvada. A voice from heaven that recited a verse when he had entered the fire-sanctuary.
Anusuya (astonished). What did it say?
Priyamvada. Listen. (Speaking in good Sanskrit.)
Know, Brahman, that your child,
Like the fire-pregnant tree,
Bears kingly seed that shall be born
For earth’s prosperity.
Anusuya (hugging Priyamvada). I am so glad, dear. But my joy is half sorrow when I think that Shakuntala is going to be taken away this very day,
Priyamvada. We must hide our sorrow as best we can. The poor girl must be made happy to-day.
Anusuya. Well, here is a coconut casket, hanging on a branch of the mango-tree. I put flower-pollen in it for this very purpose. It keeps fresh, you know. Now you wrap it in a lotus-leaf, and I will get yellow pigment and earth from a sacred spot and blades of panic grass for the happy ceremony. (Priyamvada does so. Exit Anusuya.) A voice behind the scenes. Gautami, bid the worthy Sharngarava and Sharadvata make ready to escort my daughter Shakuntala.
Priyamvada (listening). Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! They are calling the hermits who are going to Hastinapura. (Enter Anusuya, with materials for the ceremony.)
Anusuya. Come, dear, let us go. (They walk about.) Priyamvada (looking ahead). There is Shakuntala. She took the ceremonial bath at sunrise, and now the hermit women are giving her rice-cakes and wishing her happiness. Let’s go to her. (They do so. Enter Shakuntala with attendants as described, and Gautami.) Shakuntala. Holy women, I salute you.
Gautami. My child, may you receive the happy title “queen,” showing that your husband honours you.
Hermit-women. My dear, may you become the mother of a hero.
(Exeunt all but Gautami.)
The two friends (approaching). Did you have a good bath, dear?
Shakuntala. Good morning, girls. Sit here.
The two friends (seating themselves). Now stand straight, while we go through the happy ceremony.
Shakuntala. It has happened often enough, but I ought to be very grateful to-day. Shall I ever be adorned by my friends again? (She weeps.)
The two friends. You ought not to weep, dear, at this happy time. (They wipe the tears away and adorn her.)
Priyamvada. You are so beautiful, you ought to have the finest gems. It seems like an insult to give you these hermitage things. (Enter Harita, a hermit-youth, with ornaments.)