No More Learning

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 koil-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 some one
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 some day 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 mid-heaven. 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.

(_Exeunt omnes_. )


ACT V


SHAKUNTALA'S REJECTION

(_Enter a chamberlain_. )

_Chamberlain_ (_sighing_). Alas! To what a state am I reduced!

I once assumed the staff of reed
For custom's sake alone,
As officer to guard at need.
The ladies round the throne.
But years have passed away and made
It serve, my tottering steps to aid.

The king is within. I will tell him of the urgent business which
demands his attention. (_He takes a few steps_. ) But what is the
business? (_He recalls it_. ) Yes, I remember. Certain hermits, pupils
of Kanva, desire to see his Majesty. Strange, strange!

The mind of age is like a lamp
Whose oil is running thin;
One moment it is shining bright,
Then darkness closes in.

(_He walks and looks about_. ) Here is his Majesty.

He does not seek--until a father's care
Is shown his subjects--rest in solitude;
As a great elephant recks not of the sun
Until his herd is sheltered in the wood.

In truth, I hesitate to announce the coming of Kanva's pupils to the
king. For he has this moment risen from the throne of justice. But
kings are never weary. For

The sun unyokes his horses never;
Blows night and day the breeze;
Shesha upholds the world forever:
And kings are like to these.

(_He walks about. Enter the king, the clown, and retinue according to
rank_. ) _King_ (_betraying the cares of office_). Every one is happy
on attaining his desire--except a king. His difficulties increase with
his power. Thus:

Security slays nothing but ambition;
With great possessions, troubles gather thick;
Pain grows, not lessens, with a king's position,
As when one's hand must hold the sunshade's stick.

_Two court poets behind the scenes_. Victory to your Majesty.

_First poet_.

The world you daily guard and bless,
Not heeding pain or weariness;
Thus is your nature made.
A tree will brave the noonday, when
The sun is fierce, that weary men
May rest beneath its shade.

_Second poet_.

Vice bows before the royal rod;
Strife ceases at your kingly nod;
You are our strong defender.
Friends come to all whose wealth is sure,
But you, alike to rich and poor,
Are friend both strong and tender.

_King_ (_listening_). Strange! I was wearied by the demands of my
office, but this renews my spirit.

_Clown_. Does a bull forget that he is tired when you call him the
leader of the herd?

_King_ (_smiling_). Well, let us sit down. (_They seat themselves, and
the retinue arranges itself. A lute is heard behind the scenes_. )

_Clown_ (_listening_). My friend, listen to what is going on in the
music-room. Some one is playing a lute, and keeping good time. I
suppose Lady Hansavati is practising.

_King_. Be quiet. I wish to listen.

_Chamberlain_ (_looks at the king_). Ah, the king is occupied. I must
await his leisure. (_He stands aside_. )

_A song behind the scenes_.

You who kissed the mango-flower,
Honey-loving bee,
Gave her all your passion's power,
Ah, so tenderly!

How can you be tempted so
By the lily, pet?
Fresher honey's sweet, I know;
But can you forget?

_King_. What an entrancing song!

_Clown_. But, man, don't you understand what the words mean?

_King_ (_smiling_). I was once devoted to Queen Hansavati. And the
rebuke comes from her. Friend Madhavya, tell Queen Hansavati in my
name that the rebuke is a very pretty one.

_Clown_. Yes, sir. (_He rises_. ) But, man, you are using another
fellow's fingers to grab a bear's tail-feathers with. I have about as
much chance of salvation as a monk who hasn't forgotten his passions.

_King_. Go. Soothe her like a gentleman.

_Clown_. I suppose I must. (_Exit_. )

_King_ (_to himself_). Why am I filled with wistfulness on hearing
such a song? I am not separated from one I love. And yet

In face of sweet presentment
Or harmonies of sound,
Man e'er forgets contentment,
By wistful longings bound.

There must be recollections
Of things not seen on earth,
Deep nature's predilections,
Loves earlier than birth.

(_He shows the wistfulness that comes from unremembered things_. )

_Chamberlain_ (_approaching_). Victory to your Majesty. Here are
hermits who dwell in the forest at the foot of the Himalayas. They
bring women with them, and they carry a message from Kanva. What is
your pleasure with regard to them?

_King_ (_astonished_). Hermits? Accompanied by women? From Kanva?

_Chamberlain_. Yes.

_King_. Request my chaplain Somarata in my name to receive these
hermits in the manner prescribed by Scripture, and to conduct them
himself before me. I will await them in a place fit for their
reception.

_Chamberlain_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_. )

_King_ (_rising_). Vetravati, conduct me to the fire-sanctuary.

_Portress_. Follow me, your Majesty. (_She walks about_) Your Majesty,
here is the terrace of the fire-sanctuary. It is beautiful, for it has
just been swept, and near at hand is the cow that yields the milk of
sacrifice. Pray ascend it.

_King_ (_ascends and stands leaning on the shoulder of an attendant_. )
Vetravati, with what purpose does Father Kanva send these hermits to
me?

Do leagued powers of sin conspire
To balk religion's pure desire?
Has wrong been done to beasts that roam
Contented round the hermits' home?
Do plants no longer bud and flower,
To warn me of abuse of power?
These doubts and more assail my mind,
But leave me puzzled, lost, and blind.

_Portress_. How could these things be in a hermitage that rests in the
fame of the king's arm? No, I imagine they have come to pay homage to
their king, and to congratulate him on his pious rule.

(_Enter the chaplain and the chamberlain, conducting the two pupils
of_ KANVA, _with_ GAUTAMI _and_ SHAKUNTALA. )

_Chamberlain_. Follow me, if you please.

_Sharngarava_. Friend Sharadvata,

The king is noble and to virtue true;
None dwelling here commit the deed of shame;
Yet we ascetics view the worldly crew
As in a house all lapped about with flame.

_Sharadvata_. Sharngarava, your emotion on entering the city is quite
just. As for me,

Free from the world and all its ways,
I see them spending worldly days
As clean men view men smeared with oil,
As pure men, those whom passions soil,
As waking men view men asleep,
As free men, those in bondage deep.
_Chaplain_. That is why men like you are great.

_Shakuntala_ (_observing an evil omen_). Oh, why does my right eye
throb?

_Gautami_. Heaven avert the omen, my child. May happiness wait upon
you. (_They walk about_.