No More Learning

(_He approaches and seizes her
dress_. )

_Shakuntala_. Oh, sir! Be a gentleman. There are hermits wandering
about.

_King_. Do not fear your family, beautiful Shakuntala. Father Kanva
knows the holy law. He will not regret it.

For many a hermit maiden who
By simple, voluntary rite
Dispensed with priest and witness, yet
Found favour in her father's sight.

(_He looks about_. ) Ah, I have come into the open air. (_He leaves_
SHAKUNTALA _and retraces his steps_. ) _Shakuntala_ (_takes a step,
then turns with an eager gesture_).

O King, I cannot do as you would have me. You hardly know me after
this short talk. But oh, do not forget me.

_King_.

When evening comes, the shadow of the tree
Is cast far forward, yet does not depart;
Even so, beloved, wheresoe'er you be,
The thought of you can never leave my heart.

_Shakuntala_ (_takes a few steps. To herself_). Oh, oh! When I hear
him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth
hedge and see how long his love lasts. (_She hides and waits_. )

_King_. Oh, my beloved, my love for you is my whole life, yet you
leave me and go away without a thought.

Your body, soft as siris-flowers,
Engages passion's utmost powers;
How comes it that your heart is hard
As stalks that siris-blossoms guard?

_Shakuntala_. When I hear this, I have no power to go.

_King_. What have I to do here, where she is not? (_He gazes on the
ground_. ) Ah, I cannot go.

The perfumed lotus-chain
That once was worn by her
Fetters and keeps my heart
A hopeless prisoner. (_He lifts it reverently_. )

_Shakuntala_ (_looking at her arm_). Why, I was so weak and ill that
when the lotus-bracelet fell off, I did not even notice it.

_King_ (_laying the lotus-bracelet on his heart_). Ah!

Once, dear, on your sweet arm it lay,
And on my heart shall ever stay;
Though you disdain to give me joy,
I find it in a lifeless toy.

_Shakuntala_. I cannot hold back after that. I will use the bracelet
as an excuse for my coming. (_She approaches_. )

_King_ (_seeing her. Joyfully_). The queen of my life! As soon as I
complained, fate proved kind to me.

No sooner did the thirsty bird
With parching throat complain,
Than forming clouds in heaven stirred
And sent the streaming rain.

_Shakuntala_ (_standing before the king_). When I was going away, sir,
I remembered that this lotus-bracelet had fallen from my arm, and I
have come back for it. My heart seemed to tell me that you had taken
it. Please give it back, or you will betray me, and yourself too, to
the hermits.

_King_. I will restore it on one condition.

_Shakuntala_. What condition?

_King_. That I may myself place it where it belongs.

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). What can I do? (_She approaches_. )

_King_. Let us sit on this stone bench. (_They walk to the bench and
sit down_. )

_King_ (_taking_ SHAKUNTALA'S _hand_). Ah!

When Shiva's anger burned the tree
Of love in quenchless fire,
Did heavenly fate preserve a shoot
To deck my heart's desire?

_Shakuntala_ (_feeling his touch_). Hasten, my dear, hasten.

_King_ (_joyfully to himself_). Now I am content. She speaks as a wife
to her husband. (_Aloud_. ) Beautiful Shakuntala, the clasp of the
bracelet is not very firm. May I fasten it in another way?

_Shakuntala_ (_smiling_). If you like.

_King_ (_artfully delaying before he fastens it_). See, my beautiful
girl!

The lotus-chain is dazzling white
As is the slender moon at night.
Perhaps it was the moon on high
That joined her horns and left the sky,
Believing that your lovely arm
Would, more than heaven, enhance her charm.

_Shakuntala_. I cannot see it. The pollen from the lotus over my ear
has blown into my eye.

_King_ (_smiling_). Will you permit me to blow it away?

_Shakuntala_. I should not like to be an object of pity. But why
should I not trust you? _King_. Do not have such thoughts. A new
servant does not transgress orders.

_Shakuntala_. It is this exaggerated courtesy that frightens me.

_King_ (_to himself_). I shall not break the bonds of this sweet
servitude. (_He starts to raise her face to his_. SHAKUNTALA _resists
a little, then is passive_. )

_King_. Oh, my bewitching girl, have no fear of me.

(SHAKUNTALA _darts a glance at him, then looks down. The king raises
her face. Aside_. )

Her sweetly trembling lip
With virgin invitation
Provokes my soul to sip
Delighted fascination.

_Shakuntala_. You seem slow, dear, in fulfilling your promise.

_King_. The lotus over your ear is so near your eye, and so like it,
that I was confused. (_He gently blows her eye_. )

_Shakuntala_. Thank you. I can see quite well now. But I am ashamed
not to make any return for your kindness.

_King_. What more could I ask?

It ought to be enough for me
To hover round your fragrant face;
Is not the lotus-haunting bee
Content with perfume and with grace?

_Shakuntala_. But what does he do if he is not content?

_King_. This! This! (_He draws her face to his_. )

_A voice behind the scenes_. O sheldrake bride, bid your mate
farewell. The night is come.

_Shakuntala_ (_listening excitedly_). Oh, my dear, this is Mother
Gautami, come to inquire about me. Please hide among the branches.

(_The king conceals himself. Enter _GAUTAMI, _with a bowl in her
hand_. )

_Gautami_. Here is the holy water, my child. (_She sees_ SHAKUNTALA
_and helps her to rise_. ) So ill, and all alone here with the gods?

_Shakuntala_. It was just a moment ago that Priyamvada and Anusuya
went down to the river.

_Gautami_ (_sprinkling_ SHAKUNTALA _with the holy water_). May you
live long and happy, my child. Has the fever gone down? (_She touches
her_. )

_Shakuntala_. There is a difference, mother.

_Gautami_. The sun is setting. Come, let us go to the cottage.

_Shakuntala_ (_weakly rising. To herself_). Oh, my heart, you delayed
when your desire came of itself. Now see what you have done. (_She
takes a step, then turns around. Aloud_. ) O bower that took away my
pain, I bid you farewell until another blissful hour. (_Exeunt_
SHAKUNTALA _and_ GAUTAMI. )

_King_ (_advancing with a sigh_. ) The path to happiness is strewn with
obstacles.

Her face, adorned with soft eye-lashes,
Adorable with trembling flashes
Of half-denial, in memory lingers;
The sweet lips guarded by her fingers,
The head that drooped upon her shoulder--
Why was I not a little bolder?

Where shall I go now? Let me stay a moment in this bower where my
beloved lay. (_He looks about_. )

The flower-strewn bed whereon her body tossed;
The bracelet, fallen from her arm and lost;
The dear love-missive, in the lotus-leaf
Cut by her nails: assuage my absent grief
And occupy my eyes--I have no power,
Though she is gone, to leave the reedy bower.

(_He reflects_. ) Alas! I did wrong to delay when I had found my love.
So now

If she will grant me but one other meeting,
I'll not delay; for happiness is fleeting;
So plans my foolish, self-defeated heart;
But when she comes, I play the coward's part.

_A voice behind the scenes_. O King!

The flames rise heavenward from the evening altar;
And round the sacrifices, blazing high,
Flesh-eating demons stalk, like red cloud-masses,
And cast colossal shadows on the sky.

_King_ (_listens. Resolutely_). Have no fear, hermits. I am here.

(_Exit_. )


ACT IV


SHAKUNTALA'S DEPARTURE

SCENE I

(_Enter the two friends, gathering flowers_. )

_Anusuya_. Priyamvada, dear Shakuntala has been properly married by
the voluntary ceremony and she has a husband worthy of her. And yet I
am not quite satisfied.

_Priyamvada_. Why not?

_Anusuya_. The sacrifice is over and the good king was dismissed
to-day by the hermits. He has gone back to the city and there he is
surrounded by hundreds of court ladies. I wonder whether he will
remember poor Shakuntala or not.

_Priyamvada_. You need not be anxious about that. Such handsome men
are sure to be good. But there is something else to think about. I
don't know what Father will have to say when he comes back from his
pilgrimage and hears about it.

_Anusuya_. I believe that he will be pleased.

_Priyamvada_. Why?

_Anusuya_. Why not? You know he wanted to give his daughter to a lover
worthy of her. If fate brings this about of itself, why shouldn't
Father be happy?

_Priyamvada_. I suppose you are right. (_She looks at her
flower-basket_.
) My dear, we have gathered flowers enough for the
sacrifice.

_Anusuya_. But we must make an offering to the gods that watch over
Shakuntala's marriage. We had better gather more.

_Priyamvada_. Very well. (_They do so_. )

_A voice behind the scenes_. Who will bid me welcome?

_Anusuya_ (_listening_). My dear, it sounds like a guest announcing
himself.

_Priyamvada_. Well, Shakuntala is near the cottage. (_Reflecting_. )
Ah, but to-day her heart is far away. Come, we must do with the
flowers we have. (_They start to walk away_. )

_The voice_.

Do you dare despise a guest like me?
Because your heart, by loving fancies blinded,
Has scorned a guest in pious life grown old,
Your lover shall forget you though reminded,
Or think of you as of a story told.

(_The two girls listen and show dejection_. )

_Priyamvada_. Oh, dear! The very thing has happened. The dear,
absent-minded girl has offended some worthy man.

_Anusuya_ (_looking ahead_). My dear, this is no ordinary somebody. It
is the great sage Durvasas, the irascible. See how he strides away!

_Priyamvada_. Nothing burns like fire. Run, fall at his feet, bring
him back, while I am getting water to wash his feet.

_Anusuya_. I will. (_Exit_. )

_Priyamvada_ (_stumbling_). There! I stumbled in my excitement, and
the flower-basket fell out of my hand. (_She collects the scattered
flowers_. ANUSUYA _returns_. )

_Anusuya_. My dear, he is anger incarnate. Who could appease him? But
I softened him a little.

_Priyamvada_. Even that is a good deal for him. Tell me about it.

_Anusuya_. When he would not turn back, I fell at his feet and prayed
to him. "Holy sir," I said, "remember her former devotion and pardon
this offence. Your daughter did not recognise your great and holy
power to-day. "

_Priyamvada_. And then----

_Anusuya_. Then he said: "My words must be fulfilled. But the curse
shall be lifted when her lover sees a gem which he has given her for a
token. " And so he vanished.

_Priyamvada_. We can breathe again. When the good king went away, he
put a ring, engraved with his own name, on Shakuntala's finger to
remember him by. That will save her.

_Anusuya_. Come, we must finish the sacrifice for her. (_They walk
about_. )

_Priyamvada_ (_gazing_). Just look, Anusuya! There is the dear girl,
with her cheek resting on her left hand. She looks like a painted
picture. She is thinking about him. How could she notice a guest when
she has forgotten herself?

_Anusuya_. Priyamvada, we two must keep this thing to ourselves. We
must be careful of the dear girl. You know how delicate she is.

_Priyamvada_. Would any one sprinkle a jasmine-vine with scalding
water? (_Exeunt ambo_. )


SCENE II. --_Early Morning_

(_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?