Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works Part 15
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_a.n.u.suya_ (_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_.)
_a.n.u.suya_. 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 pa.s.s 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, a.n.u.suya, hurry! We are getting Shakuntala ready for her journey.
_a.n.u.suya_ (_astonished_). What do you mean, my dear?
_Priyamuada_. Listen. I just went to Shakuntala, to ask if she had slept well.
_a.n.u.suya_. 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."
_a.n.u.suya_. 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.
_a.n.u.suya_ (_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.
_a.n.u.suya_ (_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.
_a.n.u.suya_. 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 gra.s.s for the happy ceremony. (PRIYAMVADA _does so. Exit_ a.n.u.sUYA.)
_A voice behind the scenes_. Gautami, bid the worthy Sharngarava and Sharadvata make ready to escort my daughter Shakuntala.
_Priyamvada_ (_listening_). Hurry, a.n.u.suya, hurry! They are calling the hermits who are going to Hastinapura. (_Enter_ a.n.u.sUYA, _with materials for the ceremony_.)
_a.n.u.suya_. 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 wis.h.i.+ng 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 t.i.tle "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 embarra.s.sment_.)
_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_.)
_a.n.u.suya_. 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,
Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works Part 15
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Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works Part 15 summary
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