Chapter LI: Prologue: Benediction (3)

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--What do I hear? Dost thou, then, hesitate? Monarch, thou
art well acquainted with the ways of the world, and knowest that
A wife, however virtuous and discreet,
If she live separate from her wedded lord,
Though under shelter of her parent's roof,
Is mark for vile suspicion. Let her dwell
Beside her husband, though he hold her not
In his affection. So her kinsmen will it.

KING.--Do you really mean to assert that I ever married this lady?

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_despondingly. Aside_].--O my heart, thy worst misgivings are confirmed.

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Is it becoming in a monarch to depart from the rules of justice, because he repents of his engagements?

KING.--I cannot answer a question which is based on a mere fabrication.

SÁRNGARAVA.--Such inconstancy is fortunately not common, excepting in men intoxicated by power.

KING.--Is that remark aimed at me?

GAUTAMÍ.--Be not ashamed, my daughter. Let me remove thy veil for a little space. Thy husband will then recognize thee. [_Removes her veil_.

KING [_gazing at Śakoontalá. Aside_].--What charms are here revealed
before mine eyes!
Truly no blemish mars the symmetry
Of that fair form; yet can I ne'er believe
She is my wedded wife; and like a bee
That circles round the flower whose nectared cup
Teems with the dew of morning, I must pause
Ere eagerly I taste the proffered sweetness.
[_Remains wrapped in-thought._

WARDER.--How admirably does our royal master's behavior prove his regard for justice! Who else would hesitate for a moment when good fortune offered for his acceptance a form of such rare beauty?

SÁRNGARAVA.--Great King, why art thou silent?

KING.--Holy men, I have revolved the matter in my mind; but the more I think of it, the less able am I to recollect that I ever contracted an alliance with this lady. What answer, then, can I possibly give you when I do not believe myself to be her husband, and I plainly see that she is soon to become a mother?

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--Woe! woe! Is our very marriage to be called in question by my own husband? Ah me! is this to be the end of all my bright visions of wedded happiness?

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Beware!
Beware how thou insult the holy Sage!
Remember how he generously allowed
Thy secret union with his foster-child;
And how, when thou didst rob him of his treasure,
He sought to furnish thee excuse, when rather
He should have cursed thee for a ravisher.

ŚÁRADWATA.--Śárngarava, speak to him no more. Śakoontalá, our part is performed; we have said all we had to say, and the King has replied in the manner thou hast heard. It is now thy turn to give him convincing evidence of thy marriage.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--Since his feeling towards me has undergone a complete revolution, what will it avail to revive old recollections? One thing is clear--I shall soon have to mourn my own widowhood. [_Aloud_.] My revered husband--[_Stops short_.] But no--I dare not address thee by this title, since thou hast refused to acknowledge our union. Noble descendant of Puru! It is not worthy of thee to betray an innocent-minded girl, and disown her in such terms, after having so lately and so solemnly plighted thy vows to her in the hermitage.

KING [_stopping his ears_].--I will hear no more. Be such a crime far
from my thoughts!
What evil spirit can possess thee, lady,
That thou dost seek to sully my good name
By base aspersions? like a swollen torrent,
That, leaping from its narrow bed, overthrows
The tree upon its bank, and strives to blend
Its turbid waters with the crystal stream?

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--If, then, thou really believest me to be the wife of another, and thy present conduct proceeds from some cloud that obscures thy recollection, I will easily convince thee by this token.

KING.--An excellent idea!

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_feeling for the ring_].--Alas! alas! woe is me! There is no ring on my finger! [_Looks with anguish at Gautamí_.

GAUTAMÍ.--The ring must have slipped off when thou wast in the act of offering homage to the holy water of Śachí's sacred pool, near Śakrávatára.

KING [_smiling_].--People may well talk of the readiness of woman's invention! Here is an instance of it.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--Say, rather, of the omnipotence of fate. I will mention another circumstance, which may yet convince thee.

KING.--By all means let me hear it at once.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--One day, while we were seated in a jasmine bower, thou didst pour into the hollow of thine hand some water, sprinkled by a recent shower in the cup of a lotus blossom--

KING.--I am listening; proceed.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--At that instant, my adopted child, the little fawn, with soft, long eyes, came running towards us. Upon which, before tasting the water thyself, thou didst kindly offer some to the little creature, saying fondly--"Drink first, gentle fawn." But she could not be induced to drink from the hand of a stranger; though immediately afterwards, when I took the water in my own hand, she drank with perfect confidence. Then, with a smile, thou didst say--"Every creature confides naturally in its own kind. You are both inhabitants of the same forest, and have learnt to trust each other."

KING.--Voluptuaries may allow themselves to be seduced from the path of duty by falsehoods such as these, expressed in honeyed words.

GAUTAMÍ.--Speak not thus, illustrious Prince. This lady was brought up in a hermitage, and has never learnt deceit.

KING.--Holy matron,
E'en in untutored brutes, the female sex
Is marked by inborn subtlety--much more
In beings gifted with intelligence.
The wily Köil, ere towards the sky
She wings her sportive flight, commits her eggs
To other nests, and artfully consigns
The rearing of her little ones to strangers.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_angrily_].--Dishonorable man, thou judgest of others by thine own evil heart. Thou, at least, art unrivalled in perfidy, and standest alone--a base deceiver in the garb of virtue and religion--like a deep pit whose yawning mouth is concealed by smiling flowers.

KING [_aside_].--Her anger, at any rate, appears genuine, and makes me
almost doubt whether I am in the right. For, indeed,
When I had vainly searched my memory,
And so with stern severity denied
The fabled story of our secret loves,
Her brows, that met before in graceful curves,
Like the arched weapon of the god of love,
Seemed by her frown dissevered; while the fire
Of sudden anger kindled in her eyes.

[_Aloud_.] My good lady, Dushyanta's character is well-known to all. I comprehend not your meaning.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--Well do I deserve to be thought a harlot for having, in the innocence of my heart, and out of the confidence I reposed in a Prince of Puru's race, intrusted my honor to a man whose mouth distils honey, while his heart is full of poison. [_Covers her face with her mantle, and bursts into tears_.

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Thus is it that burning remorse must ever follow rash
actions which might have been avoided, and for which one has only one's
self to blame.
Not hastily should marriage be contracted,
And specially in secret. Many a time,
In hearts that know not each the other's fancies,
Fond love is changed into most bitter hate.

KING.--How now! Do you give credence to this woman rather than to me, that you heap such accusations on me?

ŚÁRNGARAVA [_sarcastically_].--That would be too absurd, certainly. You
have heard the proverb--
Hold in contempt the innocent words of those
Who from their infancy have known no guile:--
But trust the treacherous counsels of the man
Who makes a very science of deceit.

KING.--Most veracious Bráhman, grant that you are in the right, what end would be gained by betraying this lady?

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Ruin.

KING.--No one will believe that a Prince of Puru's race would seek to ruin others or himself.

ŚÁRADWATA.--This altercation is idle, Śárngarava. We have executed the
commission of our preceptor; come, let us return. [_To the King_.
Śakoontalá is certainly thy bride;
Receive her or reject her, she is thine.
Do with her, King, according to thy pleasure--
The husband o'er the wife is absolute.
Go on before us, Gautamí. [_They move away_.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--What! is it not enough to have been betrayed by this perfidious man? Must you also forsake me, regardless of my tears and lamentations? [_Attempts to follow them_.

GAUTAMÍ [_stopping_].--My son Śárngarava, see, Śakoontalá is following us, and with tears implores us not to leave her. Alas! poor child, what will she do here with a cruel husband who casts her from him?

ŚÁRNGARAVA [_turning angrily towards her_].--Wilful woman, dost thou seek to be independent of thy lord? [_Śakoontalá trembles with fear_.

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Śakoontalá!
If thou art really what the King proclaims thee,
How can thy father e'er receive thee back
Into his house and home? but, if thy conscience
Be witness to thy purity of soul,
E'en should thy husband to a handmaid's lot
Condemn thee, thou may'st cheerfully endure it,
When ranked among the number of his household.

Thy duty, therefore, is to stay. As for us, we must return immediately.

KING.--Deceive not the lady, my good hermit, by any such expectations.
The moon expands the lotus of the night,
The rising sun awakes the lily; each
Is with his own contented. Even so
The virtuous man is master of his passions,
And from another's wife averts his gaze.

ŚÁRNGARAVA.--Since thy union with another woman has rendered thee oblivious of thy marriage with Śakoontalá, whence this fear of losing thy character for constancy and virtue?

KING [_to the Priest_],--You must counsel me, revered sir, as to my
course of action. Which of the two evils involves the greater or less
sin?
Whether by some dark veil my mind be clouded,
Or this designing woman speak untruly,
I know not. Tell me, must I rather be
The base disowner of my wedded wife,
Or the defiling and defiled adulterer?

PRIEST [_after deliberation_].--You must take an intermediate course.

KING.--What course, revered sir? Tell me at once.

PRIEST.--I will provide an asylum for the lady in my own house until the birth of her child; and my reason, if you ask me, is this. Soothsayers have predicted that your first-born will have universal dominion. Now, if the hermit's daughter bring forth a son with the discus or mark of empire in the lines of his hand, you must admit her immediately into your royal apartments with great rejoicings; if not, then determine to send her back as soon as possible to her father.

KING.--I bow to the decision of my spiritual adviser.

PRIEST.--Daughter, follow me.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--O divine earth, open and receive me into thy bosom!

[_Exit Śakoontalá weeping, with the Priest and the Hermits. The King remains absorbed in thinking of her, though the curse still clouds his recollection_.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--A miracle! a miracle!

KING [_listening_].--What has happened now?

PRIEST [_entering with an air of astonishment_].--Great Prince, a stupendous prodigy has just occurred!

KING.--What is it?

PRIEST.--May it please your Majesty, so soon as Kanwa's pupils had
departed,
Śakoontalá, her eyes all bathed in tears,
With outstretched arms bewailed her cruel fate--

KING.--Well, well, what happened then?

PRIEST.--When suddenly a shining apparition, In female shape, descended from the skies, Near the nymphs' pool, and bore her up to heaven.

[_All remain motionless with astonishment_.

KING.--My good priest, from the very first I declined having anything to do with this matter. It is now all over, and we can never, by our conjectures, unravel the mystery; let it rest; go, seek repose.

PRIEST [_looking at the King_].--Be it so. Victory to the King! [_Exit._

KING.--Vetravatí, I am tired out; lead the way to the bed-chamber.

WARDER.--This way, Sire. [_They move away_.

KING.--Do what I will, I cannot call to mind
That I did e'er espouse the sage's daughter--
Therefore I have disowned her; yet 'tis strange
How painfully my agitated heart
Bears witness to the truth of her assertion,
And makes me credit her against my judgment.
[_Exeunt._

PRELUDE TO ACT SIXTH

Scene.--A Street

_Enter the King's brother-in-law as Superintendent of the city police; and with him two Constables, dragging a poor fisherman, who has his hands tied behind his back_.

BOTH THE CONSTABLES [_striking the prisoner_].--Take that for a rascally thief that you are; and now tell us, sirrah, where you found this ring--aye, the King's own signet-ring. See, here is the royal name engraved on the setting of the jewel.

FISHERMAN [_with a gesture of alarm_].--Mercy! kind sirs, mercy! I did not steal it; indeed I did not.

FIRST CONSTABLE.--Oh! then I suppose the King took you for some fine Bráhman, and made you a present of it?

FISHERMAN.--Only hear me. I am but a poor fisherman, living at Śakrávatára------

SECOND CONSTABLE.--Scoundrel, who ever asked you, pray, for a history of your birth and parentage?

SUPERINTENDENT [_to one of the Constables_].--Súchaka, let the fellow tell his own story from the beginning. Don't interrupt him.

BOTH CONSTABLES.--As you please, master. Go on, then, sirrah, and say what you've got to say.

FISHERMAN.--You see in me a poor man, who supports his family by catching fish with nets, hooks, and the like.

SUPERINTENDENT [_laughing_].--A most refined occupation, certainly!

FISHERMAN.--Blame me not for it, master.
The father's occupation, though despised
By others, casts no shame upon the son,
And he should not forsake it. Is the priest
Who kills the animal for sacrifice
Therefore deemed cruel? Sure a lowborn man
May, though a fisherman, be tender-hearted.

SUPERINTENDENT.--Well, well; go on with your story.

FISHERMAN.--One day I was cutting open a large carp I had just hooked, when the sparkle of a jewel caught my eye, and what should I find in the fish's maw but that ring! Soon afterwards, when I was offering it for sale, I was seized by your honors. Now you know everything. Whether you kill me, or whether you let me go, this is the true account of how the ring came into my possession.

SUPERINTENDENT [_to one of the Constables_].--Well, Jánuka, the rascal emits such a fishy odor that I have no doubt of his being a fisherman; but we must inquire a little more closely into this queer story about the finding of the ring. Come, we'll take him before the King's household.

BOTH CONSTABLES.--Very good, master. Get on with you, you cutpurse.
[_All move on_.

SUPERINTENDENT.--Now attend, Súchaka; keep you guard here at the gate; and hark ye, sirrahs, take good care your prisoner does not escape, while I go in and lay the whole story of the discovery of this ring before the King in person. I will soon return and let you know his commands.

CONSTABLE.--Go in, master, by all means; and may you find favor in the King's sight! [_Exit Superintendent_.

FIRST CONSTABLE [_after an interval_].--I say, Jánuka, the Superintendent is a long time away.

SECOND CONSTABLE.--Aye, aye; kings are not to be got at so easily. Folks must bide the proper opportunity.

FIRST CONSTABLE.--Jánuka, my fingers itch to strike the first blow at this royal victim here. We must kill him with all the honors, you know. I long to begin binding the flowers round his head. [_Pretends to strike a blow at the fisherman_.

FISHERMAN.--Your honor surely will not put an innocent man to a cruel death.

SECOND CONSTABLE [_looking_].--There's our Superintendent at last, I declare. See, he is coming towards us with a paper in his hand. We shall soon know the King's command; so prepare, my fine fellow, either to become food for the vultures, or to make acquaintance with some hungry cur.

SUPERINTENDENT [_entering_].--Ho, there, Súchaka! set the fisherman at liberty, I tell you. His story about the ring is all correct.

SÚCHAKA.--Oh! very good, sir; as you please.

SECOND CONSTABLE.--The fellow had one foot in hell, and now here he is in the land of the living. [_Releases him_.

FISHERMAN [_bowing to the Superintendent_].--Now, master, what think you of my way of getting a livelihood?

SUPERINTENDENT.--Here, my good man, the King desired me to present you with this purse. It contains a sum of money equal to the full value of the ring. [_Gives him the money_.

FISHERMAN [_taking it and bowing_].--His Majesty does me too great honor.

SÚCHAKA.--You may well say so. He might as well have taken you from the gallows to seat you on his state elephant.

JÁNUKA.--Master, the King must value the ring very highly, or he would never have sent such a sum of money to this ragamuffin.

SUPERINTENDENT.--I don't think he prizes it as a costly jewel so much as a memorial of some person he tenderly loves. The moment it was shown to him he became much agitated, though in general he conceals his feelings.

SÚCHAKA.--Then you must have done a great service------

JÁNUKA.--Yes, to this husband of a fish-wife.
[_Looks enviously at the fisherman_.

FISHERMAN.--Here's half the money for you, my masters. It will serve to purchase the flowers you spoke of, if not to buy me your good-will.

JÁNUKA.--Well, now, that's just as it should be.

SUPERINTENDENT.--My good fisherman, you are an excellent fellow, and I begin to feel quite a regard for you. Let us seal our first friendship over a glass of good liquor. Come along to the next wine-shop and we'll drink your health.

ALL.--By all means.
[_Exeunt._

ACT SIXTH

Scene.--The Garden of the Palace

_The nymph Sánumatí is seen descending in a celestial car_.

SÁNUMATÍ.--Behold me just arrived from attending in my proper turn at the nymphs' 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 connection with the nymph Menaká has made her daughter Śakoontalá 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? I could easily discover the reason by my divine faculty of meditation; 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.--Parabaitiká, what are you saying there to yourself?

FIRST MAIDEN.--Dear Madhukariká, am I not named after the Köil?[41] and does not the Köil 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 stand on tip-toe 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; 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,
Imprisoned in its bud; the tuneful Köil,
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 intrusted with the charge of the royal pleasure-grounds. We are therefore strangers in this place, and heard nothing of the order until 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 Śakoontalá 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 Śakoontalá.
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 "Śakoontalá,"
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 by his Jester, Máthavya, 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 Śakoontalá 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 overwhelmed 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 Śakoontalá's sufferings are very similar.

MÁTHAVYA [_aside_].--He is taken with another attack of this odious Śakoontalá 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 Piśuna, 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. [_Exit._

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--Well, then, wait a moment; I will soon demolish Master Káma's 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?

MÁTHAVYA.--Do you not remember? you told Chaturiká you should pass the heat of the day in the jasmine bower; and commanded her to bring the likeness of your queen Śakoontalá, sketched with your own hand.

KING.--True. The sight of her picture will refresh my soul. Lead the way to the arbor.

MÁTHAVYA.--This way, Sire.

[_Both move on, followed by Sánumatí._

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śakoontalá 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?

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 demeanor 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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--If that's the case, you will be certain to meet her before long.

KING.--Why?

MÁTHAVYA.--No father and mother can endure to see a daughter suffering the pain of separation from her husband.

KING.--Oh! my dear Máthavya,
Was it a dream? or did some magic dire,
Dulling my senses with a strange delusion,
Overcome my spirit? or did destiny,
Jealous of my good actions, mar their fruit,
And rob me of their guerdon? It is past,
Whatever the spell that bound me. Once again
Am I awake, but only to behold
The precipice o'er which my hopes have fallen.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 which it will not easily regain, and deserves all my sympathy.
O gem, deserved the punishment we suffer,
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.

MÁTHAVYA.--Pray, how did the ring ever come upon her hand at all?

SÁNUMATÍ.--I myself am curious to know.

KING.--You shall hear. When I was leaving my beloved Śakoontalá 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?"

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śakoontalá's hand, and fallen into the stream of the Ganges, while she was offering homage to the water of Sachí's holy pool.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śakoontalá. 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.

MÁTHAVYA [_aside_].--He is going stark mad, I verily believe.

KING.--Hear me, thou dull and undiscerning bauble!
For so it argues thee, that thou couldst leave
The slender fingers of her hand, to sink
Beneath the waters. Yet what marvel is it
That thou shouldst lack discernment? let me rather
Heap curses on myself, who, though endowed
With reason, yet rejected her I loved.

MÁTHAVYA [_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_.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śakoontalá 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.

MÁTHAVYA.--Tell me--I see three female figures drawn on the canvas, and all of them beautiful; which of the three is her Majesty, Śakoontalá?

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?

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śakoontalá, 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,
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 Máthavya, have the kindness to hold the picture until I return.

KING.--Nay, I will hold it myself.
[_Takes the picture. Exit Chaturiká_.

KING.--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 vapors of the desert.

MÁTHAVYA [_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 favorite spot where my dear Śakoontalá 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,
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.

MÁTHAVYA [_aside_].--Pooh! if I were he, I would fill up the vacant spaces with a lot of grizzly-bearded old hermits.

KING.--My dear Máthavya, there is still a part of Śakoontalá's dress which I purposed to draw, but find I have omitted.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Śirísha blossom should be twined
Behind her ear, its perfumed crest depending
Towards her cheek; and, resting on her bosom,
A lotus-fibre necklace, soft and bright
As an autumnal moon-beam, should be traced.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 the honey of flowers, has mistaken her mouth for a rose-bud, and is trying to settle upon it.

KING.--A bee! drive off the impudent insect, will you?

MÁTHAVYA.--That's your business. Your royal prerogative gives you power over all offenders.

KING.--Very true. Listen to me, thou favorite 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!

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Máthavya, 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 Śakoontalá in disowning her.

CHATURIKÁ [_entering_].--Victory to the King! I was coming along with the box of colors 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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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.

MÁTHAVYA.--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 Siva did the poison at the Deluge. When you are well quit of her, you may send and call me from the Palace of Clouds,[42] 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_.

KING [_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, has just completed the ceremonies usual upon such expectations.

KING.--The unborn child has a title to his 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 reënter 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 Śakoontalá.

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. Had you not better fetch the worthy Máthavya 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
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, when she was consoling Śakoontalá, 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 honor 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 Máthavya's voice. What ho there!

VETRAVATÍ [_entering_].--Your friend is in danger; save him, great King.

KING.--Who dares insult the worthy Máthavya?

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 my 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 sugarcane?

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 moment'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.
[_Takes aim_.

_Enter Mátali, holding Máthavya, 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 favor.

KING [_putting back his arrow_].--What, Mátali! Welcome, most noble charioteer of the mighty Indra.

MÁTHAVYA.--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, whom the gods find difficult to subdue.

KING.--So I have already heard from Nárada.

MÁTALI.--Heaven's mighty lord, who deigns to call thee "friend,"
Appoints thee to the post of highest honor,
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 honors me too highly by such a mark of distinction. But tell me, what made you act thus towards my poor friend Máthavya?

MÁTALI.--I will tell you. Perceiving that your Majesty's spirit was
completely broken by some distress of mind under which you were
laboring, 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 Máthavya_].--My dear Máthavya, the commands of the great Indra must not be left unfulfilled. Go you and acquaint my minister, Piśuna, with what has happened, and say to him from me, Dushyanta to thy care confides his realm-- Protect with all the vigor of thy mind The interests of my people; while my bow Is braced against the enemies of heaven.

MÁTHAVYA.--I obey. [_Exit._

MÁTALI.--Ascend, illustrious Prince.
[_The King ascends the car. Exeunt_.

[41] The Köil is the Indian cuckoo. It is sometimes called Parabhrita (nourished by another) because the female is known to leave her eggs in the nest of the crow to be hatched. The bird is a great favorite with the Indian poets, as the nightingale with Europeans.

[42] Palace of King Dushyanta, so-called because it was as lofty as the clouds.

ACT SEVENTH

Scene.--The Sky

_Enter King Dushyanta and Mátali in the car of Indra, moving in the air_.

KING.--My good Mátali, it appears to me incredible that I can merit such a mark of distinction for having simply fulfilled the behests of the great Indra.

MÁTALI [_smiling_].--Great Prince, it seems to me that neither of you is
satisfied with himself--
You underrate the service you have rendered,
And think too highly of the god's reward:
He deems it scarce sufficient recompense
For your heroic deeds on his behalf.

KING.--Nay, Mátali, say not so. My most ambitious expectations were more
than realized by the honor conferred on me at the moment when I took my
leave. For,
Tinged with celestial sandal, from the breast
Of the great Indra, where before it hung,
A garland of the ever-blooming tree
Of Nandana was cast about my neck
By his own hand: while, in the very presence
Of the assembled gods, I was enthroned
Beside their mighty lord, who smiled to see
His son Jayanta envious of the honor.

MÁTALI.--There is no mark of distinction which your Majesty does not
deserve at the hands of the immortals. See,
Heaven's hosts acknowledge thee their second saviour;
For now thy bow's unerring shafts (as erst
The lion-man's terrific claws) have purged
The empyreal sphere from taint of demons foul.

KING.--The praise of my victory must be ascribed to the majesty of
Indra.
When mighty gods make men their delegates
In martial enterprise, to them belongs
The palm of victory; and not to mortals.
Could the pale Dawn dispel the shades of night,
Did not the god of day, whose diadem
Is jewelled with a thousand beams of light,
Place him in front of his effulgent car?

MÁTALI.--A very just comparison. [_Driving on._] Great King, behold! the
glory of thy fame has reached even to the vault of heaven.
Hark! yonder inmates of the starry sphere
Sing anthems worthy of thy martial deeds,
While with celestial colors they depict
The story of thy victories on scrolls
Formed of the leaves of heaven's immortal trees.

KING.--My good Mátali, yesterday, when I ascended the sky, I was so eager to do battle with the demons, that the road by which we were travelling towards Indra's heaven escaped my observation. Tell me, in which path of the seven winds are we now moving?

MÁTALI.--We journey in the path of Parivaha;
The wind that bears along the triple Ganges,
And causes Ursa's seven stars to roll
In their appointed orbits, scattering
Their several rays with equal distribution.
'Tis the same path that once was sanctified
By the divine impression of the foot
Of Vishnu, when, to conquer haughty Bali,
He spanned the heavens in his second stride.

KING.--This is the reason, I suppose, that a sensation of calm repose pervades all my senses. [_Looking down at the wheels._] Ah! Mátali, we are descending towards the earth's atmosphere.

MÁTALI.--What makes you think so?

KING.--The car itself instructs me; we are moving
O'er pregnant clouds, surcharged with rain; below us
I see the moisture-loving Chátakas
In sportive flight dart through the spokes; the steeds
Of Indra glisten with the lightning's flash;
And a thick mist bedews the circling wheels.

MÁTALI.--You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions.

KING [_looking down_],--How wonderful is the appearance of the earth as
we rapidly descend!
Stupendous prospect! yonder lofty hills
Do suddenly uprear their towering heads
Amid the plain, while from beneath their crests
The ground receding sinks; the trees, whose stems
Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses,
Rise into elevation, and display
Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters,
Like silver threads, but now were scarcely seen,
Grow into mighty rivers; lo! the earth
Seems upward hurled by some gigantic power.

MÁTALI.--Well described! [_Looking with awe._] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the spectacle presented by the earth.

KING.--Tell me, Mátali, what is that range of mountains which, like a bank of clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a stream of gold? On one side its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side into the western.

MÁTALI.--Great Prince, it is called "Golden-peak,"[43] and is the abode
of the attendants of the god of Wealth. In this spot the highest forms
of penance are wrought out.
There Kaśyapa, the great progenitor
Of demons and of gods, himself the offspring
Of the divine Maríchi, Brahmá's son,
With Aditi, his wife, in calm seclusion,
Does holy penance for the good of mortals.

KING.--Then I must not neglect so good an opportunity of obtaining his blessing. I should much like to visit this venerable personage and offer him my homage.

MÁTALI.--By all means! An excellent idea. [_Guides the car to the earth._]

KING [_in a tone of wonder_].--How's this?
Our chariot wheels move noiselessly. Around
No clouds of dust arise; no shock betokened
Our contact with the earth; we seem to glide
Above the ground, so lightly do we touch it.

MÁTALI.--Such is the difference between the car of Indra and that of your Majesty.

KING.--In which direction, Mátali, is Kaśyapa's sacred retreat?