No More Learning

The lines hang loose; the steeds unreined
Dart forward with a will.
Their ears are pricked; their necks are strained;
Their plumes lie straight and still.
They leave the rising dust behind;
They seem to float upon the wind.

_King_ (_joyfully_). See! The horses are gaining on the deer.

As onward and onward the chariot flies,
The small flashes large to my dizzy eyes.
What is cleft in twain, seems to blur and mate;
What is crooked in nature, seems to be straight.
Things at my side in an instant appear
Distant, and things in the distance, near.

_A voice behind the scenes_. O King, this deer belongs to the
hermitage, and must not be killed.

_Charioteer_ (_listening and looking_). Your Majesty, here are two
hermits, come to save the deer at the moment when your arrow was about
to fall.

_King_ (_hastily_). Stop the chariot.

_Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He does so. Enter a hermit with his
pupil_. )

_Hermit_ (_lifting his hand_). O King, this deer belongs to the
hermitage.

Why should his tender form expire,
As blossoms perish in the fire?
How could that gentle life endure
The deadly arrow, sharp and sure?

Restore your arrow to the quiver;
To you were weapons lent
The broken-hearted to deliver,
Not strike the innocent.

_King_ (_bowing low_). It is done. (_He does so_. )

_Hermit_ (_joyfully_). A deed worthy of you, scion of Puru's race, and
shining example of kings. May you beget a son to rule earth and
heaven.

_King_ (_bowing low_). I am thankful for a Brahman's blessing.

_The two hermits_. O King, we are on our way to gather firewood. Here,
along the bank of the Malini, you may see the hermitage of Father
Kanva, over which Shakuntala presides, so to speak, as guardian deity.
Unless other deities prevent, pray enter here and receive a welcome.
Besides,

Beholding pious hermit-rites
Preserved from fearful harm,
Perceive the profit of the scars
On your protecting arm.

_King_. Is the hermit father there?

_The two hermits_. No, he has left his daughter to welcome guests, and
has just gone to Somatirtha, to avert an evil fate that threatens her.

_King_. Well, I will see her. She shall feel my devotion, and report
it to the sage.

_The two hermits_. Then we will go on our way. (_Exit hermit with
pupil_. )

_King_. Charioteer, drive on. A sight of the pious hermitage will
purify us.

_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
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 idea! (_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.

Yet I will learn the whole truth.

_Shakuntala_ (_excitedly_). Oh, oh! A bee has left the jasmine-vine
and is flying into my face. (_She shows herself annoyed by the bee_. )

_King_ (_ardently_).

As the bee about her flies,
Swiftly her bewitching eyes
Turn to watch his flight.
She is practising to-day
Coquetry and glances' play
Not from love, but fright.

(_Jealously_. )

Eager bee, you lightly skim
O'er the eyelid's trembling rim
Toward the cheek aquiver.
Gently buzzing round her cheek,
Whispering in her ear, you seek
Secrets to deliver.

While her hands that way and this
Strike at you, you steal a kiss,
Love's all, honeymaker.
I know nothing but her name,
Not her caste, nor whence she came--
You, my rival, take her.

_Shakuntala_. Oh, girls! Save me from this dreadful bee!

_The two friends_ (_smiling_). Who are we, that we should save you?
Call upon Dushyanta. For pious groves are in the protection of the
king.

_King_. A good opportunity to present myself. Have no--(_He checks
himself. Aside_. ) No, they would see that I am the king. I prefer to
appear as a guest.

_Shakuntala_. He doesn't leave me alone! I am going to run away.
(_She takes a step and looks about_. ) Oh, dear! Oh, dear! He is
following me. Please save me.

_King_ (_hastening forward_). Ah!

A king of Puru's mighty line
Chastises shameless churls;
What insolent is he who baits
These artless hermit-girls?

(_The girls are a little flurried on seeing the king_. )

_Anusuya_. It is nothing very dreadful, sir. But our friend
(_indicating_ SHAKUNTALA) was teased and frightened by a bee.

_King_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). I hope these pious days are happy ones.

(SHAKUNTALA's _eyes drop in embarrassment_. )

_Anusuya_. Yes, now that we receive such a distinguished guest.

_Priyamvada_. Welcome, sir. Go to the cottage, Shakuntala, and bring
fruit. This water will do to wash the feet.

_King_. Your courteous words are enough to make me feel at home.

_Anusuya_. Then, sir, pray sit down and rest on this shady bench.

_King_. You, too, are surely wearied by your pious task. Pray be
seated a moment.

_Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ SHAKUNTALA). My dear, we must be polite to
our guest. Shall we sit down? (_The three girls sit_. )

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, why do I have such feelings when I
see this man? They seem wrong in a hermitage.

_King_ (_looking at the girls_). It is delightful to see your
friendship. For you are all young and beautiful.

_Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Who is he, dear? With his mystery,
and his dignity, and his courtesy? He acts like a king and a
gentleman.

_Anusuya_. I am curious too. I am going to ask him. (_Aloud_. ) Sir,
you are so very courteous that I make bold to ask you something. What
royal family do you adorn, sir? What country is grieving at your
absence? Why does a gentleman so delicately bred submit to the weary
journey into our pious grove?

_Shakuntala_ (_aside_). Be brave, my heart. Anusuya speaks your very
thoughts.

_King_ (_aside_). Shall I tell at once who I am, or conceal it? (_He
reflects_. ) This will do. (_Aloud_. ) I am a student of Scripture.
It is my duty to see justice done in the cities of the king.
And I have come to this hermitage on a tour of inspection.

_Anusuya_. Then we of the hermitage have some one to take care of us.

(SHAKUNTALA _shows embarrassment_. )

_The two friends_ (_observing the demeanour of the pair. Aside to_
SHAKUNTALA). Oh, Shakuntala! If only Father were here to-day.

_Shakuntala_. What would he do?

_The two friends_. He would make our distinguished guest happy, if it
took his most precious treasure.

_Shakuntala_ (_feigning anger_). Go away! You mean something. I'll not
listen to you.

_King_. I too would like to ask a question about your friend.

_The two friends_. Sir, your request is a favour to us.

_King_. Father Kanva lives a lifelong hermit. Yet you say that your
friend is his daughter. How can that be?

_Anusuya_. Listen, sir. There is a majestic royal sage named
Kaushika----

_King_. Ah, yes. The famous Kaushika.

_Anusuya_. Know, then, that he is the source of our friend's being.
But Father Kanva is her real father, because he took care of her when
she was abandoned.

_King_. You waken my curiosity with the word "abandoned. " May I hear
the whole story?

_Anusuya_. Listen, sir. Many years ago, that royal sage was leading a
life of stern austerities, and the gods, becoming strangely jealous,
sent the nymph Menaka to disturb his devotions.

_King_. Yes, the gods feel this jealousy toward the austerities of
others. And then--

_Anusuya_. Then in the lovely spring-time he saw her intoxicating
beauty--(_She stops in embarrassment_. )

_King_. The rest is plain. Surely, she is the daughter of the nymph.

_Anusuya_. Yes.

_King_. It is as it should be.

To beauty such as this
No woman could give birth;
The quivering lightning flash
Is not a child of earth.

(SHAKUNTALA _hangs her head in confusion_. ) _King_ (_to himself_).
Ah, my wishes become hopes.

_Priyamvada_ (_looking with a smile at_ SHAKUNTALA). Sir, it seems as
if you had more to say. (SHAKUNTALA _threatens her friend with her
finger_. )

_King_. You are right. Your pious life interests me, and I have
another question.

_Priyamvada_. Do not hesitate. We hermit people stand ready to answer
all demands.

_King_. My question is this:

Does she, till marriage only, keep her vow
As hermit-maid, that shames the ways of love?
Or must her soft eyes ever see, as now,
Soft eyes of friendly deer in peaceful grove?

_Priyamvada_. Sir, we are under bonds to lead a life of virtue. But it
is her father's wish to give her to a suitable lover.

_King_ (_joyfully to himself_).

O heart, your wish is won!
All doubt at last is done;
The thing you feared as fire,
Is the jewel of your desire.

_Shakuntala_ (_pettishly_). Anusuya, I'm going.

_Anusuya_. What for?

_Shakuntala_. I am going to tell Mother Gautami that Priyamvada is
talking nonsense. (_She rises_. )

_Anusuya_. My dear, we hermit people cannot neglect to entertain a
distinguished guest, and go wandering about.

(SHAKUNTALA _starts to walk away without answering_. )

_King_ (_aside_). She is going! (_He starts up as if to detain her,
then checks his desires_. ) A thought is as vivid as an act, to a
lover.

Though nurture, conquering nature, holds
Me back, it seems
As had I started and returned
In waking dreams.

_Priyamvada_ (_approaching_ SHAKUNTALA). You dear, peevish girl! You
mustn't go.

_Shakuntala_ (_turns with a frown_). Why not?

_Priyamvada_. You owe me the watering of two trees. You can go when
you have paid your debt. (_She forces her to come back_. )

_King_. It is plain that she is already wearied by watering the trees.
See!

Her shoulders droop; her palms are reddened yet;
Quick breaths are struggling in her bosom fair;
The blossom o'er her ear hangs limply wet;
One hand restrains the loose, dishevelled hair.

I therefore remit her debt. (_He gives the two friends a ring. They
take it, read the name engraved on it, and look at each other_. )

_King_. Make no mistake. This is a present--from the king.

_Priyamvada_. Then, sir, you ought not to part with it. Your word is
enough to remit the debt.

_Anusuya_. Well, Shakuntala, you are set free by this kind
gentleman--or rather, by the king himself.