Sharngarava (listening to the song of koïl-birds).
Father,
The trees are answering your prayer
In cooing cuckoo-song,
Bidding Shakuntala farewell,
Their sister for so long.
Invisible
beings.
May lily-dotted lakes delight your eye;
May shade-trees bid the heat of noonday cease;
May soft winds blow the lotus-pollen nigh;
May all your path be pleasantness and peace.
(All listen in astonishment.)
Gautami.
My child, the
fairies of the pious grove bid you farewell. For they love the household. Pay
reverence to the holy ones.
Shakuntala (does so. Aside to Priyamvada).
Priyamvada, I
long to see my husband, and yet my feet will hardly move. It is hard, hard to
leave the hermitage.
Priyamvada.
You are not the
only one to feel sad at this farewell. See how the whole grove feels at parting
from you.
The grass drops
from the feeding doe;
The peahen stops
her dance;
Pale, trembling
leaves are falling slow,
The tears of
clinging plants.
Shakuntala(recalling something).
Father, I must say good-bye to the spring-creeper, my
sister among the vines.
Kanva.
I know your love for her. See! Here she is at your
right hand.
Shakuntala (approaches the vine and embraces it).
Vine sister,
embrace me too with your arms, these branches. I shall be far away from you
after to-day. Father, you must care for her as you did for me.
Kanva.
My child, you found the lover who
Had long been sought by me;
No longer need I watch for you;
I’ll give the vine a lover true,
This handsome mango-tree.
And now start on your journey.
Shakuntala (going to the two friends).
Dear girls, I leave her in your care too.
The
two friends.
But who will care for poor us? (They shed
tears.)
Kanva.
Anusuya! Priyamvada! Do not weep. It is you who should cheer
Shakuntala. (All walk about.)
Shakuntala.
Father, there is
the pregnant doe, wandering about near the cottage. When she becomes a happy
mother, you must send someone to bring me the good news. Do not forget.
Kanva.
I shall not forget, my child.
Shakuntala (stumbling).
Oh, oh! Who is
it that keeps pulling at my dress, as if to hinder me? (She turns round
to see.)
Kanva.
It is the fawn whose lip, when torn
By kusha-grass, you soothed with oil;
The fawn who gladly nibbled corn
Held in your hand; with loving toil
You have adopted him, and he
Would never leave you willingly.
Shakuntala.
My dear, why should
you follow me when I am going away from home? Your mother died when you were
born and I brought you up. Now I am leaving you, and Father Kanva will take
care of you. Go back, dear! Go back! (She walks away, weeping.)
Kanva.
Do not weep, my child. Be brave. Look at the path
before you.
Be brave, and check the rising tears
That dim your lovely eyes;
Your feet are stumbling on the path
That so uneven lies.
Sharngarava.
Holy Father, the
Scripture declares that one should accompany a departing loved one only to the
first water. Pray give us your commands on the bank of this pond, and then
return.
Kanva.
Then let us rest
in the shade of this fig-tree. (All do so.) What commands
would it be fitting for me to lay on King Dushyanta? (He reflects.)
Anusuya.
My dear, there
is not a living thing in the whole hermitage that is not grieving to-day at
saying good-bye to you. Look!
The sheldrake
does not heed his mate
Who calls behind
the lotus-leaf;
He drops the
lily from his bill
And turns on you
a glance of grief.
Kanva.
Son Sharngarava,
when you present Shakuntala to the king, give him this message from me.
Remembering my
religious worth,
Your own high
race, the love poured forth
By her,
forgetful of her friends,
Pay her what
honour custom lends
To all your
wives. And what fate gives
Beyond, will
please her relatives.
Sharngarava.
I will not forget your message, Father.
Kanva (turning to Shakuntala).
My child, I must
now give you my counsel. Though I live in the forest, I have some knowledge of
the world.
Sharngarava.
True wisdom, Father, gives insight into everything.
Kanva.
My child, when
you have entered your husband’s home,
Obey your
elders; and be very kind
To rivals; never
be perversely blind
And angry with
your husband, even though he
Should prove less
faithful than a man might be;
Be as courteous
to servants as you may,
Not puffed with
pride in this your happy day:
Thus does a
maiden grow into a wife;
But self-willed
women are the curse of life.
But what does
Gautami say?
Gautami.
This is advice sufficient for a bride. (To Shakuntala.) You will not forget,
my child.
Kanva.
Come, my daughter, embrace me and your friends.
Shakuntala.
Oh, Father! Must my friends turn back too?
Kanva.
My daughter,
they too must someday be given in marriage. Therefore they may not go to court.
Gautami will go with you.
Shakuntala (throwing her arms about her father).
I am torn from
my father’s breast like a vine stripped from a sandal-tree on the Malabar
hills. How can I live in another soil? (She weeps.)
Kanva.
My daughter, why distress yourself so?
A noble husband’s honourable wife,
You are to spend a busy, useful life
In the world’s eye; and soon, as eastern skies
Bring forth the sun, from you there shall arise
A child, a blessing and a comfort strong—
You will not miss me, dearest daughter, long.
Shakuntala (falling at his feet).
Farewell, Father.
Kanva.
My daughter, may all that come to you which I desire
for you.
Shakuntala (going to her two friends).
Come, girls! Embrace me, both of you together.
The two friends (do so).
Dear, if the
good king should perhaps be slow to recognise you, show him the ring with his
own name engraved on it.
Shakuntala.
Your doubts make my heart beat faster.
The two friends.
Do not be
afraid, dear. Love is timid.
Sharngarava (looking about).
Father,
the sun is in midheaven. She must hasten.
Shakuntala (embracing Kanva once more).
Father,
when shall I see the pious grove again?
Kanva.
My
daughter, When you have shared for many years
The
king’s thoughts with the earth,
When
to a son who knows no fears
You
shall have given birth,
When,
trusted to the son you love,
Your
royal labours cease,
Come
with your husband to the grove
And
end your days in peace.
Gautami.
My child, the hour
of your departure is slipping by. Bid your father turn back. No, she would
never do that. Pray turn back, sir.
Kanva.
Child,
you interrupt my duties in the pious grove.
Shakuntala.
Yes,
Father. You will be busy in the grove. You will not miss me. But oh! I miss
you.
Kanva.
How
can you think me so indifferent? (He sighs.)
My
lonely sorrow will not go,
For
seeds you scattered here
Before
the cottage door, will grow;
And I
shall see them, dear.
Go. And peace go
with you. (Exit Shakuntala, with
Gautami, Sharngarava, and Sharadvata.)
The two friends(gazing long after her. Mournfully).
Oh,
oh! Shakuntala is lost among the trees.
Kanva.
Anusuya! Priyamvada!
Your companion is gone. Choke down your grief and follow me. (They
start to go back.)
The two friends.
Father,
the grove seems empty without Shakuntala.
Kanva.
So love
interprets. (He walks about, sunk in thought.) Ah! I have sent
Shakuntala away, and now I am myself again. For
A
girl is held in trust, another’s treasure;
To
arms of love my child to-day is given;
And
now I feel a calm and sacred pleasure;
I
have restored the pledge that came from heaven.
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