Chapter LII: Prologue: Benediction (4)

MÁTALI [_pointing_].--Where stands yon anchorite, towards the orb
Of the meridian sun, immovable
As a tree's stem, his body half-concealed
By a huge ant-hill. Round about his breast
No sacred cord is twined, but in its stead
A hideous serpent's skin. In place of necklace,
The tendrils of a withered creeper chafe
His wasted neck. His matted hair depends
In thick entanglement about his shoulders,
And birds construct their nests within its folds.

KING.--I salute thee, thou man of austere devotion.

MÁTALI [_holding in the reins of the car_].--Great Prince, we are now in the sacred grove of the holy Kaśyapa--the grove that boasts as its ornament one of the five trees of Indra's heaven, reared by Aditi.

KING.--This sacred retreat is more delightful than heaven itself. I could almost fancy myself bathing in a pool of nectar.

MÁTALI [_stopping the chariot_].--Descend, mighty Prince.

KING [_descending_].--And what will you do, Mátali?

MÁTALI.--The chariot will remain where I have stopped it. We may both descend. [_Doing so._] This way, great King, [_Walking on._] You see around you the celebrated region where the holiest sages devote themselves to penitential rites.

KING.--I am filled with awe and wonder as I gaze.
In such a place as this do saints of earth
Long to complete their acts of penance; here,
Beneath the shade of everlasting trees,
Transplanted from the groves of Paradise,
May they inhale the balmy air, and need
No other nourishment; here may they bathe
In fountains sparkling with the golden dust
Of lilies; here, on jewelled slabs of marble,
In meditation rapt, may they recline;
Here, in the presence of celestial nymphs,
E'en passion's voice is powerless to move them.

MÁTALI.--So true is it that the aspirations of the good and great are ever soaring upwards. [_Turning round and speaking off the stage_.] Tell me, Vriddha-śákalya, how is the divine son of Maríchi now engaged? What sayest thou? that he is conversing with Aditi and some of the wives of the great sages, and that they are questioning him respecting the duties of a faithful wife?

KING [_listening_].--Then we must await the holy father's leisure.

MÁTALI [_looking at the King_].--If your Majesty will rest under the shade, at the foot of this Aśoka-tree, I will seek an opportunity of announcing your arrival to Indra's reputed father.

KING.--As you think proper. [_Remains under the tree_.

MÁTALI.--Great King, I go. [_Exit._

KING [_feeling his arm throb_].--Wherefore this causeless throbbing, O
mine arm?
All hope has fled forever; mock me not
With presages of good, when happiness
Is lost, and nought but misery remains.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--Be not so naughty. Do you begin already to show a refractory spirit?

KING [_listening_].--This is no place for petulance. Who can it be whose
behavior calls for such a rebuke? [_Looking in the direction of the
sound and smiling_.] A child, is it? closely attended by two holy women.
His disposition seems anything but childlike. See,
He braves the fury of yon lioness
Suckling its savage offspring, and compels
The angry whelp to leave the half-sucked dug,
Tearing its tender mane in boisterous sport.

_Enter a child, attended by two women of the hermitage, In the manner described_.

CHILD.--Open your mouth, my young lion, I want to count your teeth.

FIRST ATTENDANT.--You naughty child, why do you tease the animals? Know you not that we cherish them in this hermitage as if they were our own children? In good sooth, you have a high spirit of your own, and are beginning already to do justice to the name Sarva-damana (All-taming), given you by the hermits.

KING.--Strange! My heart inclines towards the boy with almost as much affection as if he were my own child. What can be the reason? I suppose my own childlessness makes me yearn towards the sons of others.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--This lioness will certainly attack you if you do not release her whelp.

CHILD [_laughing_].--Oh! indeed! let her come. Much I fear her, to be sure. [_Pouts his under-lip in defiance_.

KING.--The germ of mighty courage lies concealed
Within this noble infant, like a spark
Beneath the fuel, waiting but a breath
To fan the flame and raise a conflagration.

FIRST ATTENDANT.--Let the young lion go, like a dear child, and I will give you something else to play with.

CHILD.--Where is it? Give it me first.
[_Stretches out his hand._

KING [_looking at his hand_].--How's this? His hand exhibits one of
those mystic marks which are the sure prognostic of universal empire.
See!
His fingers stretched in eager expectation
To grasp the wished-for toy, and knit together
By a close-woven web, in shape resemble
A lotus-blossom, whose expanding petals
The early dawn has only half unfolded.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--We shall never pacify him by mere words, dear Suvratá. Be kind enough to go to my cottage, and you will find there a plaything belonging to Márkándeya, one of the hermit's children. It is a peacock made of China-ware, painted in many colors. Bring it here for the child.

FIRST ATTENDANT.--Very well. [_Exit._

CHILD.--No, no; I shall go on playing with the young lion.

[_Looks at the female attendant and laughs_.

KING.--I feel an unaccountable affection for this wayward child.
How blessed the virtuous parents whose attire
Is soiled with dust, by raising from the ground
The child that asks a refuge in their arms!
And happy are they while with lisping prattle,
In accents sweetly inarticulate,
He charms their ears; and with his artless smiles
Gladdens their hearts, revealing to their gaze
His tiny teeth, just budding into view.

ATTENDANT.--I see how it is. He pays me no manner of attention. [_Looking off the stage._] I wonder whether any of the hermits are about here. [_Seeing the King._] Kind Sir, could you come hither a moment and help me to release the young lion from the clutch of this child, who is teasing him in boyish play?

KING [_approaching and smiling_].--Listen to me, thou child of a mighty
saint.
Dost thou dare show a wayward spirit here?
Here, in this hallowed region? Take thou heed
Lest, as the serpent's young defiles the sandal,
Thou bring dishonor on the holy sage,
Thy tender-hearted parent, who delights
To shield from harm the tenants of the wood.

ATTENDANT.--Gentle Sir, I thank you; but he is not the saint's son.

KING.--His behavior and whole bearing would have led me to doubt it, had not the place of his abode encouraged the idea.

[_Follows the child, and takes him by the hand, according to the request
of the attendant. Speaking aside._
I marvel that the touch of this strange child
Should thrill me with delight; if so it be,
How must the fond caresses of a son
Transport the father's soul who gave him being!

ATTENDANT [_looking at them both_].--Wonderful! Prodigious!

KING.--What excites your surprise, my good woman?

ATTENDANT.--I am astonished at the striking resemblance between the child and yourself; and, what is still more extraordinary, he seems to have taken to you kindly and submissively, though you are a stranger to him.

KING [_fondling the child_].--If he be not the son of the great sage, of what family does he come, may I ask?

ATTENDANT.--Of the race of Puru.

KING [_aside_].--What! are we, then, descended from the same ancestry?
This, no doubt, accounts for the resemblance she traces between the
child and me. Certainly it has always been an established usage among
the princes of Puru's race,
To dedicate the morning of their days
To the world's weal, in palaces and halls,
'Mid luxury and regal pomp abiding;
Then, in the wane of life, to seek release
From kingly cares, and make the hallowed shade
Of sacred trees their last asylum, where
As hermits they may practise self-abasement,
And bind themselves by rigid vows of penance.
[_Aloud._] But how could mortals by their own power gain admission to
this sacred region?

ATTENDANT.--Your remark is just; but your wonder will cease when I tell you that his mother is the offspring of a celestial nymph, and gave him birth in the hallowed grove of Kaśyapa.

KING [_aside_].--Strange that my hopes should be again excited! [_Aloud._] But what, let me ask, was the name of the prince whom she deigned to honor with her hand?

ATTENDANT.--How could I think of polluting my lips by the mention of a wretch who had the cruelty to desert his lawful wife?

KING [_aside_].--Ha! the description suits me exactly. Would I could bring myself to inquire the name of the child's mother! [_Reflecting._] But it is against propriety to make too minute inquiries about the wife of another man.

FIRST ATTENDANT [_entering with the china peacock in her hand_].--Sarva-damana, Sarva-damana, see, see, what a beautiful Śakoonta (bird).

CHILD [_looking round_].--My mother! Where? Let me go to her.

BOTH ATTENDANTS.--He mistook the word Śakoonta for Śakoontalá. The boy dotes upon his mother, and she is ever uppermost in his thoughts.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--Nay, my dear child, I said, Look at the beauty of this Śakoonta.

KING [_aside_].--What! is his mother's name Śakoontalá? But the name is not uncommon among women. Alas! I fear the mere similarity of a name, like the deceitful vapor of the desert, has once more raised my hopes only to dash them to the ground.

CHILD [_takes the toy_].--Dear nurse, what a beautiful peacock!

FIRST ATTENDANT [_looking at the child. In great distress_].--Alas! alas! I do not see the amulet on his wrist.

KING.--Don't distress yourself. Here it is. It fell off while he was struggling with the young lion.

[_Stoops to pick it up_.

BOTH ATTENDANTS.--Hold! hold! Touch it not, for your life. How marvellous! He has actually taken it up without the slightest hesitation.

[_Both raise their hands to their breasts and look at each other in astonishment._

KING.--Why did you try to prevent my touching it?

FIRST ATTENDANT.--Listen, great Monarch. This amulet, known as "The Invincible," was given to the boy by the divine son of Maríchi, soon after his birth, when the natal ceremony was performed. Its peculiar virtue is, that when it falls on the ground, no one excepting the father or mother of the child can touch it unhurt.

KING.--And suppose another person touches it?

FIRST ATTENDANT.--Then it instantly becomes a serpent, and bites him.

KING.--Have you ever witnessed the transformation with your own eyes?

BOTH ATTENDANTS.--Over and over again.

KING [_with rapture. Aside_].--Joy! joy! Are then my dearest hopes to be fulfilled? [_Embraces the child_.

SECOND ATTENDANT.--Come, my dear Suvratá, we must inform Śakoontalá immediately of this wonderful event, though we have to interrupt her in the performance of her religious vows. [_Exeunt._

CHILD [_to the King_].--Do not hold me. I want to go to my mother.

KING.--We will go to her together, and give her joy, my son.

CHILD.--Dushyanta is my father, not you.

KING [_smiling_].--His contradiction convinces me only the more.

_Enter Śakoontalá, in widow's apparel, with her long hair twisted into a single braid_.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--I have just heard that Sarva-damana's amulet has retained its form, though a stranger raised it from the ground. I can hardly believe in my good fortune. Yet why should not Sánumatí's prediction be verified?

KING [_gazing at Śakoontalá_].--Alas! can this indeed be my Śakoontalá?
Clad in the weeds of widowhood, her face
Emaciate with fasting, her long hair
Twined in a single braid, her whole demeanor
Expressive of her purity of soul:
With patient constancy she thus prolongs
The vow to which my cruelty condemned her.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_gazing at the King, who is pale with remorse_]. Surely this is not like my husband; yet who can it be that dares pollute by the pressure of his hand my child, whose amulet should protect him from a stranger's touch?

CHILD [_going to his mother_].--Mother, who is this man that has been kissing me and calling me his son?

KING.--My best beloved, I have indeed treated thee most cruelly, but am now once more thy fond and affectionate lover. Refuse not to acknowledge me as thy husband.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--Be of good cheer, my heart. The anger of Destiny is at last appeased. Heaven regards thee with compassion. But is he in very truth my husband?

KING.--Behold me, best and loveliest of women,
Delivered from the cloud of fatal darkness
That erst oppressed my memory. Again
Behold us brought together by the grace
Of the great lord of Heaven. So the moon
Shines forth from dim eclipse, to blend his rays
With the soft lustre of his Rohiní.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--May my husband be victorious------
[_She stops short, her voice choked with tears._

KING.--O fair one, though the utterance of thy prayer
Be lost amid the torrent of thy tears,
Yet does the sight of thy fair countenance,
And of thy pallid lips, all unadorned
And colorless in sorrow for my absence,
Make me already more than conqueror.

CHILD.--Mother, who is this man?

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--My child, ask the deity that presides over thy destiny.

KING [_falling at Śakoontalá's feet_].--Fairest of women, banish from
thy mind
The memory of my cruelty; reproach
The fell delusion that overpowered my soul,
And blame not me, thy husband; 'tis the curse
Of him in whom the power of darkness reigns,
That he mistakes the gifts of those he loves
For deadly evils. Even though a friend
Should wreathe a garland on a blind man's brow,
Will he not cast it from him as a serpent?

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--Rise, my own husband, rise. Thou wast not to blame. My own evil deeds, committed in a former state of being, brought down this judgment upon me. How else could my husband, who was ever of a compassionate disposition, have acted so unfeelingly? [_The King rises_.] But tell me, my husband, how did the remembrance of thine unfortunate wife return to thy mind?

KING.--As soon as my heart's anguish is removed, and its wounds are
healed, I will tell thee all.
Oh! let me, fair one, chase away the drop
That still bedews the fringes of thine eye;
And let me thus efface the memory
Of every tear that stained thy velvet cheek,
Unnoticed and unheeded by thy lord,
When in his madness he rejected thee.
[_Wipes away the tear_.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_seeing the signet-ring on his finger_].--Ah! my dear husband, is that the Lost Ring?

KING.--Yes; the moment I recovered it, my memory was restored.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--The ring was to blame in allowing itself to be lost at the very time when I was anxious to convince my noble husband of the reality of my marriage.

KING.--Receive it back, as the beautiful twining plant receives again its blossom in token of its reunion with the spring.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--Nay; I can never more place confidence in it. Let my husband retain it.

_Enter Mátali_.

MÁTALI.--I congratulate your Majesty. Happy are you in your reunion with your wife: happy are you in beholding the face of your son.

KING.--Yes, indeed. My heart's dearest wish has borne sweet fruit. But tell me, Mátali, is this joyful event known to the great Indra?

MÁTALI [_smiling_].--What is unknown to the gods? But come with me, noble Prince, the divine Kaśyapa graciously permits thee to be presented to him.

KING.--Śakoontalá, take our child and lead the way. We will together go into the presence of the holy Sage.

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--I shrink from entering the august presence of the great Saint, even with my husband at my side.

KING.--Nay; on such a joyous occasion it is highly proper. Come, come; I entreat thee. [_All advance_.

_Kaśyapa is discovered seated on a throne with his wife Aditi_.

KAŚYAPA [_gazing at Dushyanta. To his wife_].--O Aditi, This is the mighty hero, King Dushyanta, Protector of the earth; who, at the head Of the celestial armies of thy son, Does battle with the enemies of heaven. Thanks to his bow, the thunderbolt of Indra Rests from its work, no more the minister Of death and desolation to the world, But a mere symbol of divinity.

ADITI.--He bears in his noble form all the marks of dignity.

MÁTALI [_to Dushyanta_].--Sire, the venerable progenitors of the celestials are gazing at your Majesty with as much affection as if you were their son. You may advance towards them.

KING.--Are these, O Mátali, the holy pair,
Offspring of Daksha and divine Maríchi,
Children of Brahmá's sons, by sages deemed
Sole fountain of celestial light, diffused
Through twelve effulgent orbs? Are these the pair
From whom the ruler of the triple world,
Sovereign of gods and lord of sacrifice,
Sprang into being? That immortal pair
Whom Vishnu, greater than the self-existent,
Chose for his parents, when, to save mankind,
He took upon himself the shape of mortals?

MÁTALI.--Even so.

KING [_prostrating himself_].--Most august of beings, Dushyanta, content to have fulfilled the commands of your son Indra, offers you his adoration.

KAŚYAPA.--My son, long may'st thou live, and happily may'st thou reign over the earth!

ADITI.--My son, may'st thou ever be invincible in the field of battle!

ŚAKOONTALÁ.--I also prostrate myself before you, most adorable beings, and my child with me.

KAŚYAPA.--My daughter,
Thy lord resembles Indra, and thy child
Is noble as Jayanta, Indra's son;
I have no worthier blessing left for thee,
May'st thou be faithful as the god's own wife!

ADITI.--My daughter, may'st thou be always the object of thy husband's fondest love; and may thy son live long to be the joy of both his parents! Be seated.

[_All sit down in the presence of Kaśyapa_.

KAŚYAPA [_regarding each of them by turns_].--Hail to the beautiful
Śakoontalá!
Hail to her noble son! and hail to thee,
Illustrious Prince! Rare triple combination
Of virtue, wealth, and energy united!

KING.--Most venerable Kaśyapa, by your favor all my desires were
accomplished even before I was admitted to your presence. Never was
mortal so honored that his boon should be granted ere it was solicited.
Because,
Bloom before fruit, the clouds before the rain--
Cause first and then effect, in endless sequence,
Is the unchanging law of constant nature:
But, ere the blessing issued from thy lips,
The wishes of my heart were all fulfilled.

MÁTALI.--It is thus that the great progenitors of the world confer favors.

KING.--Most reverend Sage, this thy handmaid was married to me by the Gandharva ceremony, and after a time was conducted to my palace by her relations. Meanwhile a fatal delusion seized me; I lost my memory and rejected her, thus committing a grievous offence against the venerable Kanwa, who is of thy divine race. Afterwards the sight of this ring restored my faculties, and brought back to my mind all the circumstances of my union with his daughter. But my conduct still seems to me incomprehensible; As foolish as the fancies of a man Who, when he sees an elephant, denies That 'tis an elephant, yet afterwards, When its huge bulk moves onward, hesitates, Yet will not be convinced till it has passed Forever from his sight, and left behind No vestige of its presence save its footsteps.

KASYAPA.--My son, cease to think thyself in fault. Even the delusion that possessed thy mind was not brought about by any act of thine. Listen to me.

KING.--I am attentive.

KASYAPA.--Know that when the nymph Menaká, the mother of Śakoontalá, became aware of her daughter's anguish in consequence of the loss of the ring at the nymphs' pool, and of thy subsequent rejection of her, she brought her and confided her to the care of Aditi. And I no sooner saw her than I ascertained by my divine power of meditation, that thy repudiation of thy poor faithful wife had been caused entirely by the curse of Durvásas--not by thine own fault--and that the spell would terminate on the discovery of the ring.

KING [_drawing a deep breath_].--Oh! what a weight is taken off my mind, now that my character is cleared of reproach.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--Joy! joy! My revered husband did not, then, reject me without good reason, though I have no recollection of the curse pronounced upon me. But, in all probability, I unconsciously brought it upon myself, when I was so distracted on being separated from my husband soon after our marriage. For I now remember that my two friends advised me not to fail to show the ring in case he should have forgotten me.

KAŚYAPA.--At last, my daughter, thou art happy, and hast gained thy
heart's desire. Indulge, then, no feeling of resentment against thy
partner. See, now,
Though he repulsed thee, 'twas the sage's curse
That clouded his remembrance; 'twas the curse
That made thy tender husband harsh towards thee.
Soon as the spell was broken, and his soul
Delivered from its darkness, in a moment
Thou didst gain thine empire o'er his heart.
So on the tarnished surface of a mirror
No image is reflected, till the dust
That dimmed its wonted lustre is removed.

KING.--Holy father, see here the hope of my royal race.
[_Takes his child by the hand_.

KAŚYAPA.--Know that he, too, will become the monarch of the whole earth.
Observe,
Soon, a resistless hero, shall he cross
The trackless ocean, borne above the waves
In an aerial car; and shall subdue
The earth's seven sea-girt isles.[44] Now has he gained,
As the brave tamer of the forest-beasts,
The title Sarva-damana; but then
Mankind shall hail him as King Bharata,
And call him the supporter of the world.

KING.--We cannot but entertain the highest hopes of a child for whom your highness performed the natal rites.

ADITI.--My revered husband, should not the intelligence be conveyed to Kanwa, that his daughter's wishes are fulfilled, and her happiness complete? He is Śakoontalá's foster-father. Menaká, who is one of my attendants, is her mother, and dearly does she love her daughter.

ŚAKOONTALÁ [_aside_].--The venerable matron has given utterance to the very wish that was in my mind.

KAŚYAPA.--His penances have gained for him the faculty of omniscience, and the whole scene is already present to his mind's eye.

KING.--Then most assuredly he cannot be very angry with me.

KAŚYAPA.--Nevertheless it becomes us to send him intelligence of this happy event, and hear his reply. What, ho there!

PUPIL [_entering_].--Holy father, what are your commands?

KAŚYAPA.--My good Gálava, delay not an instant, but hasten through the air and convey to the venerable Kanwa, from me, the happy news that the fatal spell has ceased, that Dushyanta's memory is restored, that his daughter Śakoontalá has a son, and that she is once more tenderly acknowledged by her husband.

PUPIL.--Your highness's commands shall be obeyed. [_Exit._

KAŚYAPA.--And now, my dear son, take thy consort and thy child, re-ascend the car of Indra, and return to thy imperial capital.

KING.--Most holy father, I obey.

KAŚYAPA.--And accept this blessing--
For countless ages may the god of gods,
Lord of the atmosphere, by copious showers
Secure abundant harvest to thy subjects;
And thou by frequent offerings preserve
The Thunderer's friendship! Thus, by interchange
Of kindly actions, may you both confer
Unnumbered benefits on earth and heaven!

KING.--Holy father, I will strive, as far as I am able, to attain this happiness.

KAŚYAPA.--What other favor can I bestow on thee, my son?

KING.--What other can I desire? If, however, you permit me to form
another wish, I would humbly beg that the saying of the sage Bharata be
fulfilled:--
May kings reign only for their subjects' weal!
May the divine Saraswati, the source
Of speech, and goddess of dramatic art,
Be ever honored by the great and wise!
And may the purple self-existent god,
Whose vital Energy pervades all space,
From future transmigrations save my soul!

[_Exeunt omnes_.

[43] A sacred range of mountains lying along the Himálaya chain immediately adjacent to Kailása, the paradise of Kuvera, the god of wealth.

[44] According to the mythical geography of the Hindoos the earth consisted of seven islands surrounded by seven seas.

BALLADS OF HINDOSTAN

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

BY

TORU DUTT