I will hide among the branches, and see what happens. (He does so.
Joyfully.) Ah, my eyes have found their heaven. Here is the darling of my thoughts, lying upon a flower strewn bench of stone, and attended by her two friends. I will hear what they say to each other. (He stands gazing.
Enter Shakuntala with her two friends.) The two friends (fanning her). Do you feel better, dear, when we fan you with these lotus-leaves?
Shakuntala (wearily). Oh, are you fanning me, my dear girls? (The two friends look sorrowfully at each other.)
King. She is seriously ill. (Doubtfully.) Is it the heat, or is it as I hope?
(Decidedly.) It must be so.
With salve upon her breast,
With loosened lotus-chain,
My darling, sore oppressed,
Is lovely in her pain.
Though love and summer heat
May work an equal woe,
No maiden seems so sweet
When summer lays her low.
Priyamvada (aside to Anusuya). Anusuya, since she first saw the good king, she has been greatly troubled. I do not believe her fever has any other cause.
Anusuya. I suspect you are right. I am going to ask her. My dear, I must ask you something. You are in a high fever.
King. It is too true.
Her lotus-chains that were as white
As moonbeams shining in the night,
Betray the fever’s awful pain,
And fading, show a darker stain.
Shakuntala (half rising.) Well, say whatever you like.
Anusuya. Shakuntala dear, you have not told us what is going on in your mind. But I have heard old, romantic stories, and I can’t help thinking that you are in a state like that of a lady in love. Please tell us what hurts you. We have to understand the disease before we can even try to cure it.
King. Anusuya expresses my own thoughts.
Shakuntala. It hurts me terribly. I can’t tell you all at once.
Priyamvada. Anusuya is right, dear. Why do you hide your trouble?
You are wasting away every day. You are nothing but a beautiful shadow.
King. Priyamvada is right. See!
Her cheeks grow thin; her breast and shoulders fail; Her waist is weary and her face is pale:
She fades for love; oh, pitifully sweet!
As vine-leaves wither in the scorching heat.
Shakuntala (sighing). I could not tell any one else. But I shall be a burden to you.
The two friends. That is why we insist on knowing, dear. Grief must be shared to be endured.
King.
To friends who share her joy and grief
She tells what sorrow laid her here;
She turned to look her love again
When first I saw her - yet I fear!
Shakuntala. Ever since I saw the good king who protects the pious grove - (She stops and fidgets.)
The two friends. Go on, dear.
Shakuntala. I love him, and it makes me feel like this.
The two friends. Good, good! You have found a lover worthy of your devotion. But of course, a great river always runs into the sea.
King (joyfully). I have heard what I longed to hear.
‘Twas love that caused the burning pain;
‘Tis love that eases it again;
As when, upon a sultry day,
Rain breaks, and washes grief away.
Shakuntala. Then, if you think best, make the good king take pity upon me. If not, remember that I was.
King. Her words end all doubt.
Priyamvada (aside to Anusuya). Anusuya, she is far gone in love and cannot endure any delay.
Anusuya. Priyamvada, can you think of any scheme by which we could carry out her wishes quickly and secretly?
Priyamvada. We must plan about the “secretly.” The “quickly” is not hard.
Anusuya. How so?
Priyamvada. Why, the good king shows his love for her in his tender glances, and he has been wasting away, as if he were losing sleep.
King. It is quite true.
The hot tears, flowing down my cheek
All night on my supporting arm
And on its golden bracelet, seek
To stain the gems and do them harm.
The bracelet slipping o’er the scars
Upon the wasted arm, that show
My deeds in hunting and in wars,
All night is moving to and fro.
Priyamvada (reflecting). Well, she must write him a love-letter. And I will hide it in a bunch of flowers and see that it gets into the king’s hand as if it were a relic of the sacrifice.
Anusuya. It is a pretty plan, dear, and it pleases me. What does Shakuntala say?
Shakuntala. I suppose I must obey orders.
Priyamvada. Then compose a pretty little love-song, with a hint of yourself in it.
Shakuntala. I’ll try. But my heart trembles, for fear he will despise me.
King.
Here stands the eager lover, and you pale
For fear lest he disdain a love so kind:
The seeker may find fortune, or may fail;
But how could fortune, seeking, fail to find?
And again:
The ardent lover comes, and yet you fear Lest he disdain love’s tribute, were it brought,
The hope of which has led his footsteps here -
Pearls need not seek, for they themselves are sought.
The two friends. You are too modest about your own charms. Would anybody put up a parasol to keep off the soothing autumn moonlight?
Shakuntala (smiling). I suppose I shall have to obey orders. (She meditates.)
King. It is only natural that I should forget to wink when I see my darling. For
One clinging eyebrow lifted,
As fitting words she seeks,
Her face reveals her passion
For me in glowing cheeks.
Shakuntala. Well, I have thought out a little song. But I haven’t anything to write with.
Priyamvada. Here is a lotus-leaf, glossy as a parrot’s breast. You can cut the letters in it with your nails.
Shakuntala. Now listen, and tell me whether it makes sense.
The two friends. Please.
Shakuntala (reads).
I know not if I read your heart aright;
Why, pitiless, do you distress me so?
I only know that longing day and night
Tosses my restless body to and fro,
That yearns for you, the source of all its woe.
King (advancing).
Though Love torments you, slender maid,
Yet he consumes me quite,
As daylight shuts night-blooming flowers
And slays the moon outright.
The two friends (perceive the king and rise joyfully). Welcome to the wish that is fulfilled without delay. (Shakuntala tries to rise.) King. Do not try to rise, beautiful Shakuntala.
Your limbs from which the strength is fled,
That crush the blossoms of your bed
And bruise the lotus-leaves, may be
Pardoned a breach of courtesy.
Shakuntala (sadly to herself). Oh, my heart, you were so impatient, and now you find no answer to make.
Anusuya. Your Majesty, pray do this stone bench the honour of sitting upon it. (Shakuntala edges away.)
King (seating himself). Priyamvada, I trust your friend’s illness is not dangerous.
Priyamvada (smiling). A remedy is being applied and it will soon be better. It is plain, sir, that you and she love each other. But I love her too, and I must say something over again.