King. Be quiet. I wish to listen.
Chamberlain (looks at the king). Ah, the king is occupied. I must await his leisure. (He stands aside.)
A song behind the scenes.
You who kissed the mango-flower,
Honey-loving bee,
Gave her all your passion’s power,
Ah, so tenderly!
How can you be tempted so
By the lily, pet?
Fresher honey ‘s sweet, I know;
But can you forget?
King. What an entrancing song!
Clown. But, man, don’t you understand what the words mean?
King (smiling). I was once devoted to Queen Hansavati. And the rebuke comes from her. Friend Madhavya, tell Queen Hansavati in my name that the rebuke is a very pretty one.
Clown. Yes, sir. (He rises.) But, man, you are using another fellow’s fingers to grab a bear’s tail-feathers with. I have about as much chance of salvation as a monk who hasn’t forgotten his passions.
King. Go. Soothe her like a gentleman.
Clown. I suppose I must. (Exit.)
King (to himself). Why am I filled with wistfulness on hearing such a song? I am not separated from one I love. And yet
In face of sweet presentment
Or harmonies of sound,
Man e’er forgets contentment,
By wistful longings bound.
There must be recollections
Of things not seen on earth,
Deep nature’s predilections,
Loves earlier than birth.
(He shows the wistfulness that comes from unremembered things.) Chamberlain (approaching). Victory to your Majesty. Here are hermits who dwell in the forest at the foot of the Himalayas. They bring women with them, and they carry a message from Kanva. What is your pleasure with regard to them?
King (astonished). Hermits? Accompanied by women? From Kanva?
Chamberlain. Yes.
King. Request my chaplain Somarata in my name to receive these hermits in the manner prescribed by Scripture, and to conduct them himself before me. I will await them in a place fit for their reception.
Chamberlain. Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.) King (rising). Vetravati, conduct me to the fire-sanctuary.
Portress. Follow me, your Majesty. (She walks about.) Your Majesty, here is the terrace of the fire-sanctuary. It is beautiful, for it has just been swept, and near at hand is the cow that yields the milk of sacrifice. Pray ascend it.
King (ascends and stands leaning on the shoulder of an attendant.) Vetravati, with what purpose does Father Kanva send these hermits to me?
Do leagued powers of sin conspire
To balk religion’s pure desire?
Has wrong been done to beasts that roam
Contented round the hermits’ home?
Do plants no longer bud and flower,
To warn me of abuse of power?
These doubts and more assail my mind,
But leave me puzzled, lost, and blind.
Portress. How could these things be in a hermitage that rests in the fame of the king’s arm? No, I imagine they have come to pay homage to their king, and to congratulate him on his pious rule. (Enter the chaplain and the chamberlain, conducting the two Pupils of Kanva, with Gautmi and Shakuntala.)
Chamberlain. Follow me, if you please.
Sharngarava. Friend Sharadvata,
The king is noble and to virtue true;
None dwelling here commit the deed of shame;
Yet we ascetics view the worldly crew
As in a house all lapped about with flame.
Sharadvata. Sharngarava, your emotion on entering the city is quite just. As for me,
Free from the world and all its ways,
I see them spending worldly days
As clean men view men smeared with oil,
As pure men, those whom passions soil,
As waking men view men asleep,
As free men, those in bondage deep.
Chaplain. That is why men like you are great.
Shakuntala (observing an evil omen). Oh, why does my right eye throb?
Gautami. Heaven avert the omen. my child. May happiness wait upon you.
(They walk about.)
Chaplain (indicating the king). O hermits, here is he who protects those of every station and of every age. He has already risen, and awaits you.
Behold him.
Sharngarava. Yes, it is admirable, but not surprising. For Fruit-laden trees bend down to earth;
The water-pregnant clouds hang low;
Good men are not puffed up by power
The unselfish are by nature so.
Portress. Your Majesty, the hermits seem to be happy. They give you gracious looks.
King (observing Shakuntala). Ah!
Who is she, shrouded in the veil
That dims her beauty’s lustre,
Among the hermits like a flower
Round which the dead leaves cluster?
Portress. Your Majesty, she is well worth looking at.
King. Enough! I must not gaze upon another’s wife.
Shakuntala (laying her hand on her breast. Aside). Oh, my heart, why tremble so? Remember his constant love and be brave.
Chaplain (advancing). Hail, your Majesty. The hermits have been received as Scripture enjoins. They have a message from their teacher.
May you be pleased to hear it.
King (respectfully). I am all attention.
The two pupils (raising their right hands). Victory, O King.
King (bowing low). I salute you all.
The two pupils. All hail.
King. Does your pious life proceed without disturbance?
The two pupils.
How could the pious duties fail
While you defend the right?
Or how could darkness’ power prevail
O’er sunbeams shining bright?
King (to himself). Indeed, my royal title is no empty one. (Aloud.) Is holy Kanva in health?
Sharngarava. O King, those who have religious power can command health. He asks after your welfare and sends this message.
King. What are his commands?
Sharngarava. He says: “Since you have met this my daughter and have married her, I give you my glad consent. For
You are the best of worthy men, they say;
And she, I know, Good Works personified;
The Creator wrought for ever and a day,
In wedding such a virtuous groom and bride.
She is with child. Take her and live with her in virtue.”
Gautami. Bless you, sir. I should like to say that no one invites me to speak.
King. Speak, mother.
Gautami.
Did she with father speak or mother?
Did you engage her friends in speech?
Your faith was plighted each to other;
Let each be faithful now to each.
Shakuntala. What will my husband say?
King (listening with anxious suspicion). What is this insinuation?
Shakuntala (to herself). Oh, oh! So haughty and so slanderous!
Sharngarava. “What is this insinuation?” What is your question? Surely you know the world’s ways well enough.