SCENE.--_The Garden of a Palace.
The nymph_ SÁNUMATÍ _is seen descending in a celestial car_.
SÁNUMATÍ.
Behold me just arrived from attending in my proper turn at the
nymph's pool, where I have left the other nymphs to perform their
ablutions, whilst I seek to ascertain, with my own eyes, how it
fares with King Dushyanta. My connexion with the nymph Menaká has
made her daughter [S']akoontalá dearer to me than my own flesh and
blood; and Menaká it was who charged me with this errand on her
daughter's behalf.
[_Looking round in all directions_.]
How is it that I see no preparations in the King's household for
celebrating the great vernal festival[89]? I could easily
discover the reason by my divine faculty of meditation[134]; but
respect must be shown to the wishes of my friend. How then shall
I arrive at the truth? I know what I will do. I will become
invisible, and place myself near those two maidens who are
tending the plants in the garden.
[_Descends and takes her station_.
_Enter a_ MAIDEN, _who stops in front of a mango-tree, and gazes
at the blossom. Another_ MAIDEN _is seen behind her_.
FIRST MAIDEN.
Hail to thee, lovely harbinger of spring! The varied radiance of
thy opening flowers Is welcome to my sight. I bid thee hail,
Sweet mango, soul of this enchanting season.
SECOND MAIDEN.
Parabhritiká, what are you saying there to yourself?
FIRST MAIDEN.
Dear Madhukariká, am I not named after the Koïl[90]? and does not
the Koïl sing for joy at the first appearance of the mango-blossom?
SECOND MAIDEN. [_Approaching hastily, with transport_.
What! is spring really come?
FIRST MAIDEN.
Yes, indeed, Madhukariká, and with it the season of joy, love,
and song.
SECOND MAIDEN.
Let me lean upon you, dear, while I stead on tiptoe and pluck a
blossom, of the mango, that I may present it as an offering to
the god of love.
FIRST MAIDEN.
Provided you let me have half the reward which the god will
bestow in return.
SECOND MAIDEN.
To be sure you shall, and that without asking. Are we not one in
heart and soul, though divided in body?
[_Leans on her friend and plucks a mango-blossom_.]
Ah! here is a bud just bursting into flower. It diffuses a
delicious perfume, though not yet quite expanded.
[_Joining her hands reverentially_.]
God of the bow, who with spring's choicest flowers
Dost point thy five unerring shafts[91]; to thee
I dedicate this blossom; let it serve
To barb thy truest arrow; be its mark
Some youthful heart that pines to be beloved.
[_Throws down a mango-blossom_.
CHAMBERLAIN.
[_Entering in a hurried manner, angrily_.
Hold there, thoughtless woman. What are you about, breaking off
those mango-blossoms, when the King has forbidden the celebration
of the spring festival?
BOTH MAIDENS. [_Alarmed_.
Pardon us, kind Sir, we have heard nothing of it.
CHAMBERLAIN.
You have heard nothing of it? Why, all the vernal plants and
shrubs, and the very birds that lodge in their branches, show
more respect to the King's order than you do.
Yon mango-blossoms, though long since expanded,
Gather no down upon their tender crests;
The flower still lingers in the amaranth[92],
Imprisoned in its bud; the tuneful Koïl,
Though winter's chilly dews be overpast,
Suspends the liquid volume of his song
Scarce uttered in his throat; e'en Love, dismayed,
Restores the half-drawn arrow to his quiver.
BOTH MAIDENS.
The mighty power of King Dushyanta is not to be disputed.
FIRST MAIDEN.
It is but a few days since Mitrávasu, the King's brother-in-law,
sent us to wait upon his Majesty; and, during the whole of our
sojourn here, we have been entrusted with the charge of the royal
pleasure-grounds. We are therefore strangers in this place, and
heard nothing of the order till you informed us of it.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Well then, now you know it, take care you don't continue your
preparations.
BOTH MAIDENS.
But tell us, kind Sir, why has the King prohibited the usual
festivities? We are curious to hear, if we may.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Men are naturally fond of festive entertainments. There must be
some good reason for the prohibition.
CHAMBERLAIN.
The whole affair is now public; why should I not speak of it?
Has not the gossip about the King's rejection of [S']akoontalá
reached your ears yet?
BOTH MAIDENS.
Oh yes, we heard the story from the King's brother-in-law, as
far, at least, as the discovery of the ring.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Then there is little more to tell you. As soon as the King's
memory was restored by the sight of his own ring, he exclaimed:
'Yes, it is all true. I remember now my secret marriage with
[S']akoontalá. When I repudiated her, I had lost my recollection!'
Ever since that moment, he has yielded himself a prey to the
bitterest remorse.
He loathes his former pleasures; he rejects
The daily homage of his ministers;
On his lone couch he tosses to and fro,
Courting repose in vain. Whene'er he meets
The ladies of his palace, and would fain
Address them with politeness, he confounds
Their names; or, calling them '[S']akoontalá,'
Is straightway silent and abashed with shame.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
To me this account is delightful.
CHAMBERLAIN.
In short, the King is so completely out of his mind that the
festival has been prohibited.
BOTH MAIDENS.
Perfectly right.
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
The King! the King! This way, Sire, this way.
CHAMBERLAIN. [_Listening_.
Oh! here comes his Majesty in this direction. Pass on, maidens;
attend to your duties.
BOTH MAIDENS.
We will, sir.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter King_ DUSHYANTA, _dressed in deep mourning, attended his
Jester_, MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _and preceded by_ VETRAVATÍ.
CHAMBERLAIN. [_Gazing at the_ KING.
Well, noble forms are certainly pleasing, under all varieties of
outward circumstances. The King's person is as charming as ever,
notwithstanding his sorrow of mind.
Though but a single golden bracelet spans
His wasted arm; though costly ornaments
Have given place to penitential weeds;
Though oft-repeated sighs have blanched his lips,
And robbed them of their bloom; though sleepless care
And carking thought have dimmed his beaming eye;
Yet does his form, by its inherent lustre,
Dazzle the gaze; and, like a priceless gem
Committed to some cunning polisher,
Grow more effulgent by the loss of substance.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside. Looking at the_ KING.
Now that I have seen him, I can well understand why [S']akoontalá
should pine after such a man, in spite of his disdainful
rejection of her.
KING. [_Walking slowly up and down in deep thought_.
When fatal lethargy o'erwhelmed my soul,
My loved one strove to rouse me, but in vain;
And now, when I would fain in slumber deep
Forget myself, full soon remorse doth wake me.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
My poor [S']akoontalá's sufferings are very similar.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_.
He is taken with another attack of this odious [S']akoontalá-fever.
How shall we ever cure him?
CHAMBERLAIN. [_Approaching_.
Victory to the King! Great Prince, the royal pleasure-grounds
have been put in order. Your Majesty can resort to them for
exercise and amusement whenever you think proper.
KING.
Vetravatí, tell the worthy Pi[S']una, my prime minister, from me,
that I am so exhausted by want of sleep that I cannot sit on the
judgment-seat to-day. If any case of importance be brought before
the tribunal, he must give it his best attention, and inform me
of the circumstances by letter.
VETRAVATÍ.
Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed.
[_Exit_.
KING. [_To the CHAMBERLAIN_.
And you, Vátáyana, may go about your own affairs.
CHAMBERLAIN.
I will, Sire.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Now that you have rid yourself of these troublesome fellows, you
can enjoy the delightful coolness of your pleasure-grounds
without interruption.
KING.
Ah! my dear friend, there is an old adage:--'When affliction has
a mind to enter, she will find a crevice somewhere;' and it is
verified in me.
Scarce is my soul delivered from the cloud
That darkened its remembrance of the past,
When lo! the heart-born deity of love
With yonder blossom of the mango barbs
His keenest shaft, and aims it at my breast.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Well, then, wait a moment; I will soon demolish Master Káma's[47]
arrow with a cut of my cane.
[_Raises his stick and strikes off the mango-blossom_.
KING. [_Smiling_.
That will do. I see very well the god of love is not a match for
a Bráhman. And now, my dear friend, where shall I sit down, that
I may enchant my sight by gazing on the twining plants, which
seem to remind me of the graceful shape of my beloved?
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Don't you remember? you told your personal attendant, Chaturiká,
that you would pass the heat of the day in the jasmine-bower; and
commanded her to bring the likeness of your queen [S']akoontalá,
sketched with your own hand.
KING.
True. The sight of her picture will refresh my soul. Lead the way
to the arbour.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
This way, Sire.
[_Both move on, followed by_ SÁNUMATÍ.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Here we are at the jasmine-bower. Look, it has a marble seat, and
seems to bid us welcome with its offerings of delicious flowers.
You have only to enter and sit down.
[_Both enter and seat themselves_.
SÁNUMATÍ
[_Aside_.
I will lean against these young jasmines. I can easily, from
behind them, glance at my friend's picture, and will then hasten
to inform her of her husband's ardent affection.
[_Stands leaning against the creepers_.
KING.
Oh! my dear friend, how vividly all the circumstances of my union
with [S']akoontalá present themselves to my recollection at this
moment! But tell me now how it was that, between the time of my
leaving her in the hermitage and my subsequent rejection of her,
you never breathed her name to me? True, you were not by my side
when I disowned her; but I had confided to you the story of my
love, and you were acquainted with every particular. Did it pass
out of your mind as it did out of mine?
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
No, no; trust me for that. But, if you remember, when you had
finished telling me about it, you added that I was not to take
the story in earnest, for that you were not really in love with a
country girl, but were only jesting; and I was dull and
thick-headed enough to believe you. But so fate decreed, and
there is no help for it.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Exactly.
KING. [_After deep thought_.
My dear friend, suggest some relief for my misery.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Come, come, cheer up; why do you give way? Such weakness is
unworthy of you. Great men never surrender themselves to
uncontrolled grief. Do not mountains remain unshaken even in a
gale of wind?
KING.
How can I be otherwise than inconsolable, when I call to mind the
agonized demeanour of the dear one on the occasion of my
disowning her?
When cruelly I spurned her from my presence,
She fain had left me; but the young recluse,
Stern as the Sage, and with authority
As from his saintly master, in a voice
That brooked not contradiction, bade her stay.
Then through her pleading eyes, bedimmed with tears,
She cast on me one long reproachful look,
Which like a poisoned shaft torments me still.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Alas! such is the force of self-reproach following a rash
action. But his anguish only rejoices me.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA
An idea has just struck me. I should not wonder if some celestial
being had carried her off to heaven.
KING.
Very likely. Who else would have dared to lay a finger on a wife,
the idol of her husband? It is said that Menaká, the nymph of
heaven, gave her birth. The suspicion has certainly crossed my
mind that some of her celestial companions may have taken her to
their own abode.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
His present recollection of every circumstance of her history
does not surprise me so much as his former forgetfulness.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
If that's the case, you will be certain to meet her before long.
KING.
Why?
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
No father and mother can endure to see a daughter suffering the
pain of separation from her husband.
KING. Oh! my dear Má[T.]Havya,
Was it a dream? or did some magic dire,
Dulling my senses with a strange delusion,
O'ercome my spirit? or did destiny,
Jealous of my good actions, mar their fruit,
And rob me of their guerdon? It is past,
Whate'er the spell that bound me. Once again
Am I awake, but only to behold
The precipice o'er which my hopes have fallen.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Do not despair in this manner. Is not this very ring a proof that
what has been lost may be unexpectedly found?
KING. [_Gazing at the ring_.
Ah! this ring, too, has fallen from a station not easily
regained, and I offer it my sympathy. O gem,
The punishment we suffer is deserved,
And equal is the merit of our works,
When such our common doom. Thou didst enjoy
The thrilling contact of those slender fingers,
Bright as the dawn; and now how changed thy lot!
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Had it found its way to the hand of any other person, then indeed
its fate would have been deplorable.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Pray, how did the ring ever come upon her hand at all?
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
I myself am curious to know.
KING.
You shall hear. When I was leaving my beloved [S']akoontalá that I
might return to my own capital, she said to me, with tears in her
eyes: 'How long will it be ere my lord send for me to his palace
and make me his queen?'
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Well, what was your reply?
KING.
Then I placed the ring on her finger, and thus addressed her:--
Repeat each day one letter of the name Engraven on this gem; ere
thou hast reckoned The tale of syllables, my minister Shall come
to lead thee to thy husband's palace.
But, hard-hearted man that I was, I forgot to fulfil my promise,
owing to the infatuation that took possession of me.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
A pleasant arrangement! Fate, however, ordained that the
appointment should not be kept.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
But how did the ring contrive to pass into the stomach of that
carp which the fisherman caught and was cutting up?
KING.
It must have slipped from my [S']akoontalá's hand, and fallen into
the stream of the Ganges, while she was offering homage to the
water of [S']achí's holy pool.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Very likely.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Hence it happened, I suppose, that the King, always fearful of
committing the least injustice, came to doubt his marriage with
my poor [S']akoontalá. But why should affection so strong as his
stand in need of any token of recognition?
KING.
Let me now address a few words of reproof to this ring.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_.
He is going stark mad, I verily believe.
KING.
Hear me, then dull and undiscerning bauble!
For so it argues thee, that thou could'st leave
The slender fingers of her hand, to sink
Beneath the waters. Yet what marvel is it
That thou should'st lack discernment? let me rather
Heap curses on myself, who, though endowed
With reason, yet rejected her I loved.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_.
And so, I suppose, I must stand here to be devoured by hunger,
whilst he goes on in this sentimental strain.
KING.
O forsaken one, unjustly banished from my presence, take pity on
thy slave, whose heart is consumed by the fire of remorse, and
return to my sight.
_Enter_ CHATURIKÁ _hurriedly, with a picture in her hand_.
CHATURIKÁ.
Here is the Queen's portrait.
[_Shows the picture_.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Excellent, my dear friend, excellent! The imitation of nature is
perfect, and the attitude of the figures is really charming. They
stand out in such bold relief that the eye is quite deceived.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
A most artistic performance! I admire the King's skill, and could
almost believe that [S']akoontalá herself was before me.
KING.
I own 'tis not amiss, though it portrays
But feebly her angelic loveliness.
Aught less than perfect is depicted falsely,
And fancy must supply the imperfection.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
A very just remark from a modest man, whose affection is
exaggerated by the keenness of his remorse.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Tell me:--I see three female figures drawn on the canvas, and all
of them beautiful; which of the three is her Majesty [S']akoontalá?
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
If he cannot distinguish her from the others, the simpleton might
as well have no eyes in his head.
KING.
Which should you imagine to be intended for her?
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
She who is leaning, apparently a little tired, against the stem
of that mango-tree, the tender leaves of which glitter with the
water she has poured upon them. Her arms are gracefully extended;
her face is somewhat flushed with the heat; and a few flowers
have escaped from her hair, which has become unfastened, and hangs
in loose tresses about her neck. That must be the queen
[S']akoontalá, and the others, I presume, are her two attendants.
KING.
I congratulate you on your discernment. Behold the proof of my
passion;
My finger, burning with the glow of love[93],
Has left its impress on the painted tablet;
While here and there, alas! a scalding tear
Has fallen on the cheek and dimmed its brightness.
Chaturiká, the garden in the background of the picture is only
half-painted. Go, fetch the brush that I may finish it.
CHATURIKÁ.
Worthy Má[t.]havya, have the kindness to hold the picture until I
return.
KING.
Nay, I will hold it myself.
[_Takes the picture_.
[_Exit_ CHATURIKÁ.
My loved one came but lately to my presence
And offered me herself, but in my folly
I spurned the gift, and now I fondly cling
To her mere image; even as a madman
Would pass the waters of the gushing stream,
And thirst for airy vapours of the desert[94].
MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_.
He has been fool enough to forego the reality for the semblance,
the substance for the shadow.
[_Aloud_.]
Tell us, I pray, what else remains to be painted.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
He longs, no doubt, to delineate some favourite spot where my
[S']akoontalá delighted to ramble.
KING.
You shall hear:--
I wish to see the Máliní portrayed,
Its tranquil course by banks of sand impeded;
Upon the brink a pair of swans; beyond,
The hills adjacent to Himálaya[95],
Studded with deer; and, near the spreading shade
Of some large tree, where 'mid the branches hang
The hermits' vests of bark, a tender doe,
Rubbing its downy forehead on the horn
Of a black antelope, should be depicted.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
[_Aside_.
Pooh! if I were he, I would fill up the vacant
spaces with a lot of grizzly-bearded old hermits.
KING.
My dear Má[T.]Havya, there is still a part of [S']akoontalá's
dress which I purposed to draw, but find I have
omitted.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
What is that?
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Something suitable, I suppose, to the simple attire of a young
and beautiful girl dwelling in a forest.
KING.
A sweet [S']irísha blossom should be twined
Behind her ear[7], its perfumed crest depending
Towards her cheek; and, resting on her bosom,
A lotus-fibre necklace, soft and bright
As an autumnal moonbeam, should be traced.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Pray, why does the Queen cover her lips with the tips of her
fingers, bright as the blossom of a lily, as if she were afraid
of something? [_Looking more closely_.] Oh! I see; a vagabond
bee, intent on thieving honey from the flowers, has mistaken her
mouth for a rosebud, and is trying to settle upon it.
KING.
A bee! drive off the impudent insect, will you?
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
That's your business. Your royal prerogative gives you power over
all offenders.
KING.
Very true. Listen to me, thou favourite guest of flowering plants;
why give thyself the trouble of hovering here?
See where thy partner sits on yonder flower,
And waits for thee ere she will sip its dew.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
A most polite way of warning him off!
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
You'll find the obstinate creature is not to be sent about his
business so easily as you think.
KING.
Dost thou presume to disobey? Now hear me:--
An thou but touch the lips of my beloved,
Sweet as the opening blossom, whence I quaffed
In happier days love's nectar, I will place thee
Within the hollow of yon lotus cup,
And there imprison thee for thy presumption.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
He must be bold indeed not to show any fear when you threaten him
with such an awful punishment. [_Smiling, aside_.] He is stark mad,
that's clear; and I believe, by keeping him company, I am beginning
to talk almost as wildly. [_Aloud_.] Look, it is only a painted bee.
KING.
Painted? impossible!
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Even I did not perceive it; how much less should he!
KING.
Oh! my dear friend, why were you so ill-natured as to tell me the
truth?
While all entranced, I gazed upon her picture,
My loved one seemed to live before my eyes
Till every fibre of my being thrilled
With rapturous emotion. Oh! 'twas cruel
To dissipate the day-dream, and transform
The blissful vision to a lifeless image.
[_Sheds tears_.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Separated lovers are very difficult to please; but he seems more
difficult than usual.
KING.
Alas! my dear Má[T.]Havya, why am I doomed to be the victim of
perpetual disappointment?
Vain is the hope of meeting her in dreams,
For slumber night by night forsakes my couch;
And now that I would fain assuage my grief
By gazing on her portrait here before me,
Tears of despairing love obscure my sight.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
You have made ample amends for the wrong you did [S']akoontalá in
disowning her.
CHATURIKÁ. [_Entering_.
Victory to the King! I was coming along with the box of colours
in my hand--
KING.
What now?
CHATURIKÁ.
When I met the queen Vasumatí, attended by Taraliká. She insisted
on taking it from me, and declared she would herself deliver it
into your Majesty's hands.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
By what luck did you contrive to escape her?
CHATURIKÁ.
While her maid was disengaging her mantle, which had caught in
the branch, of a shrub, I ran away.
KING.
Here, my good friend, take the picture and conceal it. My
attentions to the Queen have made her presumptuous. She will be
here in a minute.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Conceal the picture! conceal myself, you mean.
[_Getting up and taking the picture_.]
The Queen has a bitter draught in store for you, which you will
have to swallow, as [S']iva did the poison at the Deluge[96]. When
you are well quit of her, you may send and call me from the
Palace of Clouds[97], where I shall take refuge.
[_Exit, running_.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Although the King's affections are transferred to another object,
yet he respects his previous attachments. I fear his love must be
somewhat fickle.
VETRAVATÍ. [_Entering with a despatch in her hand_.
Victory to the King!
KING.
Vetravatí, did you observe the queen Vasumatí coming in this
direction?
VETRAVATÍ.
I did; but when she saw that I had a despatch in my hand for your
Majesty, she turned back.
KING.
The Queen has too much regard for propriety to interrupt me when
I am engaged with State-affairs.
VETRAVATÍ.
So please your Majesty, your prime minister begs respectfully to
inform you that he has devoted much time to the settlement of
financial calculations, and only one case of importance has been
submitted by the citizens for his consideration. He has made a
written report of the facts, and requests your Majesty to cast
your eyes over it.
KING.
Hand me the paper.
[_VETRAVATÍ delivers it_.
[_Reading_.
What have we here? 'A merchant named Dhanamitra, trading by sea,
was lost in a late shipwreck. Though a wealthy trader, he was
childless; and the whole of his immense property becomes by law
forfeited to the king.' So writes the minister. Alas! alas! for
his childlessness! But surely, if he was wealthy, he must have
had many wives. Let an inquiry be made whether any one of them is
expecting to give birth to a child.
VETRAVATÍ.
They say that his wife, the daughter of the foreman of a guild
belonging to Ayodhyá [98], has just completed the ceremonies usual
upon such expectations.
KING.
The unborn child has a title to its father's property. Such is my
decree. Go, bid my minister proclaim it so.
VETRAVATÍ.
I will, my liege.
[_Going_.
KING.
Stay a moment.
VETRAVATÍ.
I am at your Majesty's service.
KING.
Let there be no question whether he may or may not have left
offspring; Rather be it proclaimed that whosoe'er Of King
Dushyanta's subjects be bereaved
Of any loved relation, an it be not
That his estates are forfeited for crimes,
Dushyanta will himself to them supply
That kinsman's place in tenderest affection.
VETRAVATÍ.
It shall be so proclaimed.
[_Exit_ VETRAVATÍ, _and re-enters after an interval_.
VETRAVATÍ.
Your Majesty's proclamation was received with acclamations of
joy, like grateful rain at the right season.
KING. [_Drawing a deep sigh_.
So, then, the property of rich men, who have no lineal
descendants, passes over to a stranger at their decease. And
such, alas! must be the fate of the fortunes of the race of Puru
at my death; even as when fertile soil is sown with seed at the
wrong season.
VETRAVATÍ.
Heaven forbid!
KING.
Fool that I was to reject such happiness when it offered itself
for my acceptance!
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
He may well blame his own folly when he calls to mind his
treatment of my beloved [S']akoontalá.
KING.
Ah! woe is me! when I forsook my wife--
My lawful wife--concealed within her breast
There lay my second self, a child unborn,
Hope of my race, e'en as the choicest fruit
Lies hidden in the bosom of the earth.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
There is no fear of your race being cut off for want of a son.
CHATURIKÁ. [_Aside to_ VETRAVATÍ.
The affair of the merchant's death has quite upset our royal
master, and caused him sad distress. Would it not be better to
fetch the worthy Má[t.]havya from the Palace of Clouds to comfort
him?
VETRAVATÍ.
A very good idea.
[_Exit_.
KING.
Alas! the shades of my forefathers are even now beginning to be
alarmed, lest at my death they may be deprived of their funeral
libations.
No son remains in King Dushyanta's place
To offer sacred homage to the dead
Of Puru's noble line; my ancestors
Must drink these glistening tears, the last libation[99]
A childless man can ever hope to make them.
[_Falls down in an agony of grief_.
CHATURIKÁ. [_Looking at him in consternation_.
Great King, compose yourself.
SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_.
Alas! alas! though a bright light is shining near him, he is
involved in the blackest darkness, by reason of the veil that
obscures his sight. I will now reveal all, and put an end to his
misery. But no; I heard the mother of the great Indra[100], when
she was consoling [S']akoontalá, say that the gods will soon bring
about a joyful union between husband and wife, being eager for
the sacrifice which will be celebrated in their honour on the
occasion. I must not anticipate the happy moment, but will return
at once to my dear friend and cheer her with an account of what I
have seen and heard. [_Rises aloft and disappears_.
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Help! help! to the rescue!
KING.
[_Recovering himself. Listening_.
Ha! I heard a cry of distress, and in Má[t.]havya's voice too. What
ho there!
VETRAVATÍ. [_Entering_.
Your friend is in danger; save him, great King.
KING.
Who dares insult the worthy Má[t.]havya?
VETRAVATÍ.
Some evil demon, invisible to human eyes, has seized him, and
carried him to one of the turrets of the Palace of Clouds.
KING. [_Rising_.
Impossible! Have evil spirits power over my subjects,
even in nay private apartments? Well, well;--
Daily I seem, less able to avert
Misfortune from myself, and o'er my actions
Less competent to exercise control;
How can I then direct my subjects' ways,
Or shelter them from tyranny and wrong?
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Halloo there! my dear friend; help! help!
KING. [_Advancing with rapid strides_.
Fear nothing--
THE SAME VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Fear nothing, indeed! How can I help fearing when some monster is
twisting back my neck, and is about to snap it as he would a
sugar-cane?
KING. [_Looking round_.
What ho there! my bow!
SLAVE. [_Entering with a bow_.
Behold your bow, Sire, and your arm-guard.
[_The_ KING _snatches up the bow and arrows_.
ANOTHER VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Here, thirsting for thy life-blood, will I slay thee,
As a fierce tiger rends his struggling prey.
Call now thy friend Dushyanta to thy aid;
His bow is mighty to defend the weak;
Yet all its vaunted power shall be as nought.
KING. [_With fury_.
What! dares he defy me to my face? Hold there, monster! Prepare
to die, for your time is come.
[_Stringing his bow_.]
Vetravatí, lead the way to the terrace.
VETRAVATÍ.
This way, Sire.
[_They advance in haste_.
KING. [_Looking on every side_.
How's this? there is nothing to be seen.
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Help! Save me! I can see you, though you cannot see me. I am like
a mouse in the claws of a cat; my life is not worth a minute's
purchase.
KING.
Avaunt, monster! You may pride yourself on the
magic that renders you invisible, but my arrow shall
find you out. Thus do I fix a shaft
That shall discern between an impious demon,
And a good Bráhman; bearing death to thee,
To him deliverance--even as the swan
Distinguishes the milk from worthless water[101].
[_Takes aim_.
_Enter_ MÁTALI[102] _holding_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _whom he releases_.
MÁTALI.
Turn thou thy deadly arrows on the demons;
Such is the will of Indra; let thy bow
Be drawn against the enemies of the gods;
But on thy friends cast only looks of favour.
KING. [_Putting back his arrow_.
What, Mátali! Welcome, most noble charioteer of the mighty Indra.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
So, here is a monster who thought as little about slaughtering me
as if I had been a bullock for sacrifice, and you must e'en greet
him with a welcome.
MÁTALI. [_Smiling_.
Great Prince, hear on what errand Indra sent me into your
presence.
KING.
I am all attention.
MÁTALI.
There is a race of giants, the descendants of Kálanemi[103], whom
the gods find it difficult to subdue.
KING.
So I have already heard from Nárada[104].
MÁTALI.
Heaven's mighty lord, who deigns to call thee 'friend,'
Appoints thee to the post of highest honour,
As leader of his armies; and commits
The subjugation of this giant brood
To thy resistless arms, e'en as the sun
Leaves the pale moon to dissipate the darkness.
Let your Majesty, therefore, ascend at once the celestial car of
Indra; and, grasping your arms, advance to victory.
KING.
The mighty Indra honours me too highly by such a mark of
distinction. But tell me, what made you act thus towards my poor
friend Má[T.]Havya?
MÁTALI.
I will tell you. Perceiving that your Majesty's
spirit was completely broken by some distress of mind
under which you were labouring, I determined to
rouse your energies by moving you to anger. Because
To light a flame, we need but stir the embers;
The cobra, when incensed, extends his head
And springs upon his foe; the bravest men
Display their courage only when provoked.
KING. [_Aside to_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
My dear Má[T.]Havya, the commands of the great Indra must not be
left unfulfilled. Go you and acquaint my minister, Pi[S']una, with
what has happened, and say to him from me:--
Dushyanta to thy care confides his realm--
Protect with all the vigour of thy mind
The interests of his people; while his bow
Is braced against the enemies of heaven.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
I obey. [_Exit_.
MÁTALI
Ascend, illustrious Prince.
[_The_ KING _ascends the car_.
[_Exeunt_.
* * * * *