Charioteer. Yes, your Majesty. (He counterfeits motion again.) King (looking about). One would know, without being told, that this is the precinct of a pious grove.
Charioteer. How so?
King. Do you not see? Why, here
Are rice-grains, dropped from bills of parrot chicks Beneath the trees; and pounding-stones where sticks A little almond-oil; and trustful deer
That do not run away as we draw near;
And river-paths that are besprinkled yet
From trickling hermit-garments, clean and wet.
Besides,
The roots of trees are washed by many a stream
That breezes ruffle; and the flowers’ red gleam
Is dimmed by pious smoke; and fearless fawns
Move softly on the close-cropped forest lawns.
Charioteer. It is all true.
King (after a little). We must not disturb the hermitage. Stop here while I dismount.
Charioteer. I am holding the reins. Dismount, your Majesty.
King (dismounts and looks at himself). One should wear modest garments on entering a hermitage. Take these jewels and the bow. (He 7 gives them to the charioteer.) Before I return from my visit to the hermits, have the horses’ backs wet down.
Charioteer. Yes, Your Majesty. (Exit.) King (walking and looking about). The hermitage! Well, I will enter. (As he does so, he feels a throbbing in his arm.)
A tranquil spot! Why should I thrill?
Love cannot enter there -
Yet to inevitable things
Doors open everywhere.
A voice behind the scenes. This way, girls!
King (listening). I think I hear some one to the right of the grove. I must find out. (He walks and looks about.) Ah, here are hermit-girls, with watering-pots just big enough for them to handle. They are coming in this direction to water the young trees. They are charming!
The city maids, for all their pains,
Seem not so sweet and good;
Our garden blossoms yield to these
Flower-children of the wood.
I will draw back into the shade and wait for them. (He stands, gazing toward them. Enter Shakuntala, as described, and her two friends.) First friend. It seems to me, dear, that Father Kanva cares more for the hermitage trees than he does for you. You are delicate as a jasmine blossom, yet he tells you to fill the trenches about the trees.
Shakuntala. Oh, it isn’t Father’s bidding so much. I feel like a real sister to them. (She waters the trees.)
Priyamvada. Shakuntala, we have watered the trees that blossom in the summer-time. Now let’s sprinkle those whose flowering-time is past.
That will be a better deed, because we shall not be working for a reward.
Shakuntala. What a pretty ideal (She does so.) King (to himself). And this is Kanva’s daughter, Shakuntala. (In surprise.) The good Father does wrong to make her wear the hermit’s dress of bark.
The sage who yokes her artless charm
With pious pain and grief,
Would try to cut the toughest vine
With a soft, blue lotus-leaf.
Well, I will step behind a tree and see how she acts with her friends. (He conceals himself.)
Shakuntala. Oh, Anusuya! Priyamvada has fastened this bark dress so tight that it hurts. Please loosen it. (Anusuya does so.) Priyamvada (laughing). You had better blame your own budding charms for that.
King. She is quite right.
Beneath the barken dress
Upon the shoulder tied,
In maiden loveliness
Her young breast seems to hide,
As when a flower amid
The leaves by autumn tossed -
Pale, withered leaves - lies hid,
And half its grace is lost.
Yet in truth the bark dress is not an enemy to her beauty. It serves as an added ornament. For
The meanest vesture glows
On beauty that enchants:
The lotus lovelier shows
Amid dull water-plants;
The moon in added splendour
Shines for its spot of dark;
Yet more the maiden slender
Charms in her dress of bark.
Shakuntala (looking ahead). Oh, girls, that mango-tree is trying to tell me something with his branches that move in the wind like fingers. I must go and see him. (She does so.)
Priyamvada. There, Shakuntala, stand right where you are a minute.
Shakuntala. Why?
Priyamvada. When I see you there, it looks as if a vine were clinging to the mango-tree.
Shakuntala. I see why they call you the flatterer.
King. But the flattery is true.
Her arms are tender shoots; her lips
Are blossoms red and warm;
Bewitching youth begins to flower
In beauty on her form.
Anusuya. Oh, Shakuntala! Here is the jasmine-vine that you named Light of the Grove. She has chosen the mango-tree as her husband.
Shakuntala (approaches and looks at it, joyfully). What a pretty pair they make. The jasmine shows her youth in her fresh flowers, and the mango-tree shows his strength in his ripening fruit. (She stands gazing at them.)
Priyamvada (smiling). Anusuya, do you know why Shakuntala looks so hard at the Light of the Grove?
Anusuya. No. Why?
Priyamvada. She is thinking how the Light of the Grove has found a good tree, and hoping that she will meet a fine lover.
Shakuntala. That’s what you want for yourself.
(She tips her
watering-pot.)
Anusuya. Look, Shakuntala! Here is the spring-creeper that Father Kanva tended with his own hands - just as he did you. You are forgetting her.
Shakuntala. I’d forget myself sooner. (She goes to the creeper and looks at it, joyfully.) Wonderful! Wonderful! Priyamvada, I have something pleasant to tell you.
Priyamvada. What is it, dear?
Shakuntala. It is out of season, but the spring-creeper is covered with buds down to the very root.
The two friends (running up). Really?
Shakuntala. Of course. Can’t you see?
Priyamvada (looking at it joyfully). And I have something pleasant to tell you. You are to be married soon.
Shakuntala (snappishly). You know that’s just what you want for yourself.
Priyamvada. I’m not teasing. I really heard Father Kanva say that this flowering vine was to be a symbol of your coming happiness.
Anusuya. Priyamvada, that is why Shakuntala waters the spring-creeper so lovingly.
Shakuntala. She is my sister. Why shouldn’t I give her water? (She tips her watering-pot.)
King. May I hope that she is the hermit’s daughter by a mother of a different caste? But it must be so.
Surely, she may become a warrior’s bride;
Else, why these longings in an honest mind?
The motions of a blameless heart decide
Of right and wrong, when reason leaves us blind.