(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?
Priyamuada. 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 cocoa-nut 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.) Harita. Here are ornaments for our lady. (The women look at them in astonishment.)
Gautami. Harita, my son, whence come these things?
Harita. From the holy power of Father Kanva.
Gautami. A creation of his mind?
Harita. Not quite. Listen. Father Kanva sent us to gather blossoms from the trees for Shakuntala, and then
One tree bore fruit, a silken marriage dress That shamed the moon in its white loveliness; Another gave us lac-dye for the feet; From others, fairy hands extended, sweet Like flowering twigs, as far as to the wrist, And gave us gems, to adorn her as we list.
Priyamvada (Looking at SHAKUNTALA). A bee may be born in a hole in a tree, but she likes the honey of the lotus.
Gautami. This gracious favour is a token of the queenly happiness which you are to enjoy in your husband's palace. (SHAKUNTALA shows embarrassment.)
Harita. Father Kanva has gone to the bank of the Malini, to perform his ablutions. I will tell him of the favour shown us by the trees.
(Exit.)
Anusuya. My dear, we poor girls never saw such ornaments. How shall we adorn you? (She stops to think, and to look at the ornaments.) But we have seen pictures. Perhaps we can arrange them right.
Shakuntala. I know how clever you are. (The two friends adorn her. Enter KANVA, returning after his ablutions.)
Kanva.
Shakuntala must go to-day;
I miss her now at heart;
I dare not speak a loving word
Or choking tears will start.My eyes are dim with anxious thought; Love strikes me to the life: And yet I strove for pious peace-- I have no child, no wife.
What must a father feel, when come The pangs of parting from his child at home?
(He walks about.) The two friends. There, Shakuntala, we have arranged your ornaments. Now put on this beautiful silk dress.
(SHAKUNTALA rises and does so.)
Gautami. My child, here is your father. The eyes with which he seems to embrace you are overflowing with tears of joy. You must greet him properly. (SHAKUNTALA makes a shamefaced reverence.)
Kanva. My child,
Like Sharmishtha, Yayati's wife,
Win favour measured by your worth;
And may you bear a kingly son
Like Puru, who shall rule the earth.Gautami. My child, this is not a prayer, but a benediction.
Kanva. My daughter, walk from left to right about the fires in which the offering has just been thrown. (All walk about.)
The holy fires around the altar kindle,
And at their margins sacred grass is piled;
Beneath their sacrificial odours dwindle
Misfortunes. May the fires protect you, child!(SHAKUNTALA walks about them from left to right.)
Kanva. Now you may start, my daughter. (He glances about.) Where are Sharngarava and Sharadvata? (Enter the two pupils.)
The two pupils. We are here, Father.
Kanva. Sharngarava, my son, lead the way for your sister.
Sharngarava. Follow me. (They all walk about.)
Kanva. O trees of the pious grove, in which the fairies dwell,
She would not drink till she had wet
Your roots, a sister's duty,
Nor pluck your flowers; she loves you yet
Far more than selfish beauty. 'Twas festival in her pure life
When budding blossoms showed;
And now she leaves you as a wife--
Oh, speed her on her road!Sharngarava (listening to the song of ko