Chapter X: Act VII: SCENE.--The Sky (1)

_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 services 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 realised by the honour conferred on me at the moment when I took my leave. For,

Tinged with celestial sandal, from the breast[105]
Of the great Indra, where before it hung,
A garland of the ever-blooming tree
Of Nandana[106] 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[107] envious of the honour.

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 how's unerring shafts (as erst
The Lion-man's terrific claws[108]) 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[11]?

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 colours 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[109]--
The wind that bears along the triple Ganges[110]
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[111].

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[112] 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 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 stem
Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses,
Rise into elevation, and display
Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters,
Like silver threads, were scarce, but now, discerned,
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 the 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[113],' and is the abode of the attendants of the god of wealth. In this spot the highest forms of penance are wrought out.

There Ka[s']yapa[114], the great progenitor
Of demons and of gods, himself the offspring
Of the divine Maríchi, Brahmá's son,
With Adití, 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 Ka[s']yapa's sacred retreat?

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. Bound about his breast
No sacred cord is twined[115], 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[116].

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 Ka[s']yapa--the grove that boasts as its ornament one of the five trees of Indra's heaven, reared by Adití.

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[117]; 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-[S']ákalya, how is the divine son of Maríchi now engaged? What sayest thou? that he is conversing with Adití 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 A[s']oka-tree [118], 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[18]?
All hope has fled for ever; 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 behaviour 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 child-like. 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 that? His hand exhibits one of those mystic marks[84] 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 Márkandeya, one of the hermit's children. It is a peacock made of china-ware, painted in many colours. 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[119], revealing to their gaze
His pearly 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[71],
Thou bring dishonour 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 behaviour 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. 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 Ka[s']yapa.

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 honour 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[120].

FIRST ATTENDANT.

[_Entering with the china peacock in her hand_.

Sarva-damana, Sarva-damana, see, see, what a beautiful [S']akoonta (bird).

CHILD. [_Looking round_.

My mother! Where? Let me go to her.

BOTH ATTENDANTS.

He mistook the word [S']akoonta for [S']akoontalá. 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 [S']akoonta.

KING. [_Aside_.

What! is his mother's name [S']akoontalá? But the name is not uncommon among women. Alas! I fear the mere similarity of a name, like the deceitful vapour of the desert[94], has once more raised my hopes only to dash them to the ground.

CHILD.

Dear nurse, what a beautiful peacock!

[_Takes the toy_.

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 except 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 [S']akoontalá immediately of this wonderful event, though we have to interrupt her in the performance of her religious vows.

[_Exeunt_.

CHILD. [_To the_ KING.

Don't 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 only convinces me the more.

_Enter_ [S']AKOONTALÁ, _in widow's apparel, with her long hair twisted into a single braid_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_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.

Alas! can this indeed be my [S']akoontalá?

Clad in the weeds of widowhood, her face
Emaciate with fasting, her long hair
Twined in a single braid[121], her whole demeanour
Expressive of her purity of soul;
With patient constancy she thus prolongs
The vow to which my cruelty condemned her.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_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.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_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 [122], to blend his rays
With the soft lustre of his Rohiní.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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[123]
And colourless in sorrow for my absence,
Make me already more than conqueror.

CHILD.

Mother, who is this man?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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

KING. [_Falling at_ [S']AKOONTALÁ's _feet_.

Fairest of women, banish from thy mind
The memory of my cruelty; reproach
The fell delusion that o'erpowered my soul,
And blame not me, thy husband; 'tis the curse
Of him in whom the power of darkness[124] 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?

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Rise, my own husband, rise. Thou wast not to blame. My own evil deeds, committed in a former state of being[37], 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_.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

[_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.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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 own 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 Ka[s']yapa graciously permits thee to be presented to him.

KING.

[S']akoontalá, take our child and lead the way. We will together go into the presence of the holy Sage.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

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_.

KA[S']YAPA _is discovered seated on a throne with his wife_ ADITI.

KA[S']YAPA.

[_Gazing at_ DUSHYANTA. _To his wife_.

O Adití,

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[125], by sages deemed
Sole fountain of celestial light, diffused
Through twelve effulgent orbs [114]? Are these the pair
From whom the ruler of the triple world [126],
Sovereign of gods and lord of sacrifice,
Sprang into being? That immortal pair
Whom Vishnu, greater than the Self-existent [127],
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.

KA[S']YAPA.

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!

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

I also prostrate myself before you, most adorable Beings, and my child with me.

KA[S']YAPA.

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 KA[S']YAPA_.

KA[S']YAPA. [_Regarding each of them by turns_.

Hail to the beautiful [S']akoontalá,
Hail to her noble son, and hail to thee,
Illustrious Prince--rare triple combination
Of virtue, wealth, and energy united!

KING.

Most venerable Ka[s']yapa, by your favour all my desires were accomplished even before I was admitted to your presence. Never was mortal so honoured 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 favours.

KING.

Most reverend Sage, this thy handmaid was married to me by the Gándharva ceremony[55], 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; then afterwards,
When its huge bulk moves onward, hesitates;
Yet will not be convinced till it has passed
For ever from his sight, and left behind
No vestige of its presence save its footsteps.

KA[S']YAPA.

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.

KA[S']YAPA.

Know that when the nymph Menaká, the mother of [S']akoontalá, became aware of her daughter's anguish in consequence of the loss of the ring at the nymph's pool, and of thy subsequent rejection of her, she brought her and confided her to the care of Adití. And I no sooner saw her than I ascertained by my divine faculty of meditation[134], 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.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_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.

KA[S']YAPA.

At last, my daughter, thou art happy, and hast gained thy heart's desire. Indulge, then, no feeling of resentment against thy consort. 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 regain 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_.

KA[S']YAPA.

Know that he, too, will become the monarch of the
wholes earth. Observe,
Soon, a resistless hero, shall he cross
The trackless ocean, borne above the waves
In an aërial car; and shall subdue
The earth's seven sea-girt isles[128]. 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[129],
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 [S']akoontalá's foster-father. Menaká, who is one of my attendants, is her mother, and dearly does she love her daughter.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_.

The venerable matron has given utterance to the very wish that was in my mind.

KA[S']YAPA.

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.

KA[S']YAPA.

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?

KA[S']YAPA.

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 [S']akoontalá has a son, and that she is once more tenderly acknowledged by her husband.

PUPIL.

Your Highness' commands shall be obeyed.

[_Exit_.

KA[S']YAPA.

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.

KA[S']YAPA.

And accept this blessing--

For countless ages may the god of gods,
Lord of the atmosphere, by copious showers
Secure abundant harvests 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.

KA[S']YAPA.

What other favour 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[130] be fulfilled:

May kings reign only for their subjects' weal;
May the divine Saraswatí[131], the source
Of speech, and goddess of dramatic art,
Be ever honoured by the great and wise;
And may the purple self-existent god[132],
Whose vital Energy[133] pervades all space,
From future transmigrations save my soul.

[_Exeunt omnes_.

NOTES:

1. _Í[S']a preserve you_.

That is, 'the Lord,' a name given to the god Siva, when regarded as supreme. As presiding over dissolution he is associated with Brahmá the Creator, and Vishnu the Preserver; constituting with them the Hindú Triad. Kálidása indulges the religious predilections of his fellow-townsmen by beginning and ending the play with a prayer to [S']iva, who had a large temple in Ujjayiní, the modern Oujein, the city of Vikramáditya, situated north-eastward from Gujarát.

2. _In these eight forms_.

The worshippers of Siva, who were Pantheists in the sense of believing that [S']iva was himself all that exists, as well as the cause of all that is, held that there were eight different manifestations of their god, called Rudras; and that these had their types in the eight visible forms enumerated here. The Hindús reckon five elements. The most subtle is Ether (_ákása_), supposed to convey sound, which is its peculiar attribute or property (_guna_). The next element--Air, has for its properties sound and feeling. The third--Fire, has sound, feeling, and colour. The fourth--Water, has sound, feeling, colour, and taste. The fifth--Earth, has all the other properties, with the addition of smell.

3. _An audience of educated and discerning men_.

Lit. 'An audience, who are chiefly men of education and discernment.' Few could have been present at these dramatic representations excepting learned and educated men. The mass of the composition being in Sanskrit, would not have been intelligible to the vulgar and illiterate.

4. _[S']akoontalá; or, The Lost Ring_.

The literal title is '[S']akoontalá recognized by the token or ring.'

5. _The present Summer season_.

Hindú poets divide the year into six seasons of two months each, viz. I. Spring (Vasanta), beginning about the middle of March; or, according to some, February. 2. Summer (Gríshma). 3. Rains (Varsha). 4. Autumn (Sarad). 5. Winter (Hemanta). 6. Dews (Sisira). Practically, however, there are only three seasons in India, 1. The hot season. 2. The rains. 3. The cold weather. In Lower Bengal and Behar, the first of these seasons begins in March, the second in June, and the third in November. The temperature of the cold season is highly exhilarating, and the climate is then superior to that of any portion of the English year. In Calcutta, this season continues for about three months; in Upper India, for about five; and in the Panjáb for about seven. The rains in Bengal Proper are more violent and protracted than in Hindústán and the Panjáb. In the latter country they last for hardly more than two months, and even then only fall at intervals. Plays were acted on solemn and festive occasions, on lunar holidays, and especially at the changes of the season.

6. _Of fragrant Pátalas_.

The Pátala or trumpet-flower; _Bignonia suaveolens_.

7. _With sweet [S']irísha flowers_.

The flowers of the _Acacia Sírisha_ were used by the Hindú women as ear-ornaments.

8. _King Dushyanta_.

For the genealogy of King Dushyanta see Introduction, page xxxviii.

9. _That wields the trident_.

[S']iva is called Pinákin, that is, 'armed with a trident,' or according to some, a bow named Pináka. Siva not being invited to Daksha's sacrifice, was so indignant, that, with his wife, he suddenly presented himself, confounded the sacrifice, dispersed the gods, and chasing Yajna, 'the lord of sacrifice,' who fled in the form of a deer, overtook and decapitated him.

10. _Their waving plumes, that late
Fluttered above their brows, are motionless._

The Chámarí, or chowrie, formed of the white bushy tail of the Yak, or _Bos grunniens_, was placed as an ornament between the ears of horses, like the plume of the war-horse of chivalry. The velocity of the chariot caused it to lose its play, and appear fixed in one direction, like a flag borne rapidly against the wind.

11. _The steeds of Indra and the Sun._

That is, the speed of the chariot resembled that of the Wind and the Sun. Indra was the god of the firmament or atmosphere--the Jupiter Tonans of Hindú mythology--and presided over the forty-nine Winds. He has a heaven of his own (Swarga), of which he is the lord, and, although inferior to the three great deities of the Hindú Triad (Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva), he is chief of the secondary gods. The Hindús represent the Sun as seated in a chariot, drawn by seven green horses, having before him a lovely youth without legs, who acts as his charioteer, and who is Aruna, or the Dawn personified.

12. _Puru's race_.

See Dushyanta's pedigree detailed at page xxxviii of the Introduction.

13. _The great sage Kanwa_.

The sage Kanwa was a descendant of Kasyapa, whom the Hindús consider to have been the father of the inferior gods, demons, man, fish, reptiles, and all animals, by his twelve wives. Kanwa was the chief of a number of devotees, or hermits, who had constructed a hermitage on the banks of the river Máliní, and surrounded it with gardens and groves, where penitential rites were performed, and animals were reared for sacrificial purposes, or for the amusement of the inmates. There is nothing new in asceticism. The craving after self-righteousness, and the desire of acquiring merit by self-mortification, is an innate principle of the human heart, and ineradicable even by Christianity. Witness the monastic institutions of the Romish Church, of which Indian penance-groves were the type. The Superior of a modern Convent is but the antitype of Kanwa; and what is Romanism but humanity developing itself in some of its most inveterate propensities?

14. _He has gone to Soma tírtha_.

A place of pilgrimage in the west of India, on the coast of Gujarát, near the temple of Somanáth, or Somnát, made notorious by its gates, which were brought back from Ghazní by Lord Ellenborough's orders in 1842, and are now to be seen in the arsenal at Agra. These places of pilgrimage were generally fixed on the bank of some sacred stream, or in the vicinity of some holy spring. The word _tírtha_ is derived from a Sanskrit root, _trí_, 'to cross,' implying that the river has to be passed through, either for the washing away of sin, or extrication from some adverse destiny. Thousands of devotees still flock to the most celebrated Tírthas on the Ganges, at Benares, Haridwár, etc.

15. _Ingudí_.

A tree, commonly called Ingua, or Jiyaputa, from the fruit of which oil was extracted, which the devotees used for their lamps and for ointment. One synonym for this tree is _tápasa-taru_, 'the anchorite's tree.'

16. _Bark-woven vests_.

Dresses made of bark, worn by ascetics, were washed in water, and then suspended to dry on the branches of trees.

17. _By deep canals_.

It was customary to dig trenches round the roots of trees, to collect the rain-water.

18. _My throbbing arm_.

A quivering sensation in the right arm was supposed by the Hindús to prognosticate union with a beautiful woman. Throbbings of the arm or eyelid, if felt on the right side, were omens of good fortune in men; if on the left, bad omens. The reverse was true of women. 19. _The hard acacia's stem_.

The Samí tree, a kind of acacia (_Acacia Suma_), the wood of which is very hard, and supposed by the Hindús to contain fire.

20. _The lotus_.

This beautiful plant, the varieties of which, white, blue, and red, are numerous, bears some resemblance to our water-lily. It is as favourite a subject of allusion and comparison with Hindú poets as the rose is with Persian.

21. _With the Saivala entwined_.

The [S']aivala (_Vallisneria_) is an aquatic plant, which spreads itself over ponds, and interweaves itself with the lotus. The interlacing of its stalks is compared in poetry to braided hair.

22. _Yon Ke[s']ara tree_.

The Ke[s']ara tree (_Mimusops elengi_) is the same as the Bakula, frequent mention of which is made is some of the Puránas. It bears a strong-smelling flower, which, according to Sir W. Jones, is ranked among the flowers of the Hindú paradise. The tree Is very ornamental in pleasure-grounds.

23. _Would that my union with her were permissible_.

A Bráhman might marry a woman of the military or kingly class next below him, and the female offspring of such a marriage would belong to a mixed caste, and might be lawfully solicited in marriage by a man of the military class. But if [S']akoontalá were a pure Bráhmaní woman, both on the mother's and father's side, she would be ineligible as the wife of a Kshatriya king. Dushyanta discovers afterwards that she was, in fact, the daughter of the great Vi[s']wámitra (see note 27), who was of the same caste as himself, though her mother was the nymph Menaká.

24. _I trust all is well with your devotional rites_.

This was the regular formula of salutation addressed to persons engaged in religions exercises.

25. _This water that we have brought with us will serve to bathe our guest's feet_.

Water for the feet is one of the first things invariably provided for a guest in all Eastern countries. Compare Genesis xxiv. 32; Luke vii. 44. If the guest were a Bráhman, or a man of rank, a respectful offering (_argha_) of rice, fruit, and flowers was next presented. In fact, the rites of hospitality in India were enforced by very stringent regulations. The observance of them ranked as one of the five great sacred rites, and no punishment was thought too severe for one who violated them. If a guest departed unhonoured from a house, his sins were to be transferred to the householder, and all the merits of the householder were to be transferred to him.

26. _Sapta-parna tree_.

A tree having seven leaves on a stalk (_Echites scholaris_).

27. _Vis']wámitra, whose family name is Kausika_.

In the Rámáyana, the great sage Vi[s']wámitra (both king and saint), who raised himself by his austerities from the regal to the Bráhmanical caste, is said to be the son of Gádhi, King of Kanúj, grandson of Kusanátha, and great-grandson of Kusika or Kusa. On his accession to the throne, in the room of his father Gádhi, in the course of a tour through his dominions, he visited the hermitage of the sage Vasishtha, where the Cow of Plenty, a cow granting all desires, excited his cupidity. He offered the sage untold treasures for the cow; but being refused, prepared to take it by force. A long war ensued between the king and the sage (symbolical of the struggles between the military and Bráhmanical classes), which ended in the defeat of Vi[s']wámitra, whose vexation was such, that he devoted himself to austerities, in the hope of attaining the condition of a Bráhman. The Rámáyana recounts how, by gradually increasing the rigour of his penance through thousands of years, he successively earned the title of Royal Sage, Sage, Great Sage, and Bráhman Sage. It was not till he had gained this last title that Vasishtha consented to acknowledge his equality with himself, and ratify his admission into the Bráhmanical state. It was at the time of Vi[s']wámitra's advancement to the rank of a Sage, and whilst he was still a Kshatriya, that Indra, jealous of his increasing power, sent the nymph Menaká to seduce him from his life of mortification and continence. The Rámáyana records his surrender to this temptation, and relates that the nymph was his companion in the hermitage for ten years, but does not allude to the birth of [S']akoontalá during that period.

28. _The inferior gods, I am aware, are jealous_.

According to the Hindú system, Indra and the other inferior deities were not the possessors of Swarga, or heaven, by indefeasible right. They accordingly viewed with jealousy, and even alarm, any extraordinary persistency by a human being in acts of penance, as it raised him to a level with themselves; and, if carried beyond a certain point, enabled him to dispossess them of Paradise. Indra was therefore the enemy of excessive self-mortification, and had in his service numerous nymphs who were called his 'weapons,' and whose business it was to impede by their seductions the devotion of holy men.

29. _Gautamí_.

The name of the matron or Superior of the female part of the society of hermits. Every association of religious devotees seems to have included a certain number of women, presided over by an elderly and venerable matron, whose authority resembled that of an abbess in a convent of nuns.

30. _Ku[s']a-grass_.

This grass was held sacred by the Hindús, and was abundantly used in all their religions ceremonies. Its leaves are very long, and taper to a sharp needle-like point, of which the extreme acuteness was proverbial; whence the epithet applied to a clever man, 'sharp as the point of Ku[s']a-grass.' Its botanical name is _Poa cynosuroïdes_.

31. _Kuruvaka._

A species of Jhintí or Barleria, with purple flowers, and covered with sharp prickles.

32. _The Jester_.

See an account of this character in the Introduction, p. xxxiv.

33. _We have nothing to eat but roast game_.

Indian game is often very dry and flavourless.

34. _Attended by the Yavana women_.

Who these women were has not been accurately ascertained. Yavana is properly Arabia, but is also a name applied to Greece. The Yavana women were therefore either natives of Arabia, or Greece, and their business was to attend upon the king, and take charge of his weapons, especially his bow and arrows. Professor H. H. Wilson, in his translation of the Vikramorva[s']í, where the same word occurs (Act V. p. 261), remarks that Tartarian or Bactrian women may be intended.

35. _In the disc of crystal_.

That is, the sun-gem (_Súrya-kánta_, 'beloved by the sun'), a shining stone resembling crystal. Professor Wilson calls it a fabulous stone with fabulous properties, and mentions another stone, the moon-gem (_chandra-kánta_). It may be gathered from this passage that the sun-stone was a kind of glass lens, and that the Hindús were not ignorant of the properties of this instrument at the time when '[S']akoontalá' was written.

36. _Some fallen blossoms of the jasmine_.

The jasmine here intended was a kind of double jasmine with a very delicious perfume, sometimes called 'Arabian jasmine' (_Jasminum zambac_). It was a delicate plant, and, as a creeper, would depend on some other tree for support. The Arka, or sun-tree (Gigantic Asclepias: _Calotropis gigantea_), on the other hand, was a large and vigorous shrub. Hence the former is compared to [S']akoontalá, the latter to the sage Kanwa.

37.

_The mellowed fruit
Of virtuous actions in some former birth_.

The doctrine of the transmigration of the soul from one body to another is an essential dogma of the Hindú religion, and connected with it is the belief in the power which every human being possesses of laying up for himself a store of merit by good deeds performed in the present and former births. Indeed the condition of every person is supposed to derive its character of happiness or misery, elevation or degradation, from the virtues or vices of previous states of being. The consequences of actions in a former birth are called _vipáka_; they may be either good or bad, but are rarely unmixed with evil taint.

In the present comparison, however, they are described as pure and unalloyed. With reference to the first four lines of this stanza, compare Catullus, Carmen Nuptiale, verse 39.

'Ut flos in septis secretus nascitur hortis,
Ignotus pecori, nullo contusus aratro,
Quem mulcent auræ, firmat sol, educat imber:
Multi illuum pueri, multæ optavere puellæ:
Idem quum tenui carptus defloruit ungui,
Nulli illum pueri, nallæ optavere puellæ:
Sic virgo, dum intacta manet,' etc.

38. _The sixth part of their grain_.

According to Manu, a king might take a sixth part of liquids, flowers, roots, fruit, grass, etc.; but, even though dying with want, he was not to receive any tax from a Bráhman learned in the Vedas.

39. _A title only one degree removed from that of a Sage_.

Dushyanta was a Rájarshi; that is, a man of the military class who had attained the rank of Royal Sage or Saint by the practice of religious austerities. The title of Royal or Imperial Sage was only one degree inferior to that of Sage. Compare note 27.

40. _Chanted by inspired bards_.

Or celestial minstrels, called Gandharvas. These beings were the musicians of Indra's heaven, and their business was to amuse the inhabitants of Swarga by singing the praises of gods, saints, or heroes. Compare note 11.

41. _In their fierce warfare with the powers of hell_.

Indra and the other inferior gods (compare note 11) were for ever engaged in hostilities with their half-brothers, the demons called Daityas, who were the giants or Titans of Hindú mythology. On such occasions the gods seem to have depended very much upon the assistance they received from mortal heroes.

42. _Evil demons are disturbing our sacrificial rites_.

The religious rites and sacrifices of holy men were often disturbed by certain evil spirits or goblins called Rákshasas, who were the determined enemies of piety and devotion. No great sacrifice or religious ceremony was ever carried on without an attempt on the part of these demons to impede its celebration; and the most renowned saints found it necessary on such occasions to acknowledge their dependence on the strong arm of the military class, by seeking the aid of warriors and heroes. The inability of holy men, who had attained the utmost limit of spiritual power, to cope with the spirits of evil, and the superiority of physical force in this respect, is very remarkable.

43. _Vishnu_.

Vishnu, the Preserver, was one of the three gods of the Hindú Triad. He became incarnate in various forms for the good of mortals, and is the great enemy of the demons.

14 _Like king Tri[s']anku_.

The story of this monarch is told in the Rámáyana. He is there described as a just and pious prince of the solar race, who aspired to celebrate a great sacrifice, hoping thereby to ascend to heaven in his mortal body. After various failures he had recourse to Vi[s']wámitra, who undertook to conduct the sacrifice, and invited all the gods to be present. They, however, refused to attend; upon which the enraged Vi[s']wámitra, by his own power, transported Tri[s']anku to the skies, whither he had no sooner arrived than he was hurled down again by Indra and the gods; but being arrested in his downward course by the sage, he remained suspended between heaven and earth, forming a constellation in the southern hemisphere.

45. _Ointment of Usíra-root_.

The root of a fragrant grass (_Andropogon muricatum_), from which a cooling ointment was made.

46. _The very breath of his nostrils_.

Compare Lam. iv. 20. 'The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was taken.'

47. _God of the flowery shafts_.

The Hindú Cupid, or god of love (Káma), is armed with a bow made of sugar-cane, the string of which consists of bees. He has five arrows, each tipped with the blossom of a flower, which pierce the heart through the five senses; and his favourite arrow is pointed with the _chita_, or mango-flower.

48. _E'en now in thy unbodied essence lurks The fire of [S']iva's anger_.

The story is thus told in the Rámáyana. Káma (Cupid) once approached [S']iva that he might influence him with love for his wife, Párvatí. [S']iva happened then to be practising austerities, and intent on a vow of chastity. He therefore cursed the god of love in a terrible voice, and at the same time a flash from his eye caused the god's body to shrivel into ashes. Thus Káma was made incorporeal, and from that time was called 'the bodiless one.'

49.
_Like the flame,
That ever hidden in the secret depths
Of ocean, smoulders there unseen_.

This submarine fire was called Aurva, from the following fable. The Rishi Aurva, who had gained great power by his austerities, was pressed by the gods and others to perpetuate his race. He consented, but warned them that his offspring would consume the world. Accordingly, he created from his thigh a devouring fire, which, as soon as it was produced, demanded nourishment, and would have destroyed the whole earth, had not Brahmá appeared and assigned the ocean as its habitation, and the waves as its food. The spot where it entered the sea was called 'the mare's mouth.' Doubtless the story was invented to suit the phenomenon of some marine volcano, which may have exhaled through the water bituminous inflammable gas, and which, perhaps in the form of a horse's mouth, was at times visible above the sea.

50 _Who on his 'scutcheon bears the monster-fish_.

The Hindú Cupid is said to have subdued a marine monster, which was, therefore, painted on his banner.

51 _The graceful undulation of her gait_.

_Hansa-gáminí_, 'walking like a swan,' was an epithet for a graceful woman. The Indian lawgiver, Manu, recommends that a Bráhman should choose for his wife a young maiden, whose gait was like that of a phoenicopter, or flamingo, or even like that of a young elephant. The idea in the original is, that the weight of her hips had caused the peculiar appearance observable in the print of her feet. Largeness of the hips was considered a great beauty in Hindú women, and would give an undulatory motion to their walk. 52 _The Mádhaví_.

A large and beautiful creeper (_Gaertnera racemosa_), bearing white, fragrant flowers, to which constant allusion is made in Sanskrit plays.

53 _Pines to be united with the Moon_.

A complete revolution of the moon, with respect to the stars, being made in twenty-seven days, odd hours, the Hindús divide the heavens into twenty-seven constellations (asterisms) or lunar stations, one of which receives the moon for one day in each of his monthly journeys. As the Moon, Chandra, is considered to be a masculine deity, the Hindús fable these twenty-seven constellations as his wives, and personify them as the daughters of Daksha. Of these twenty-seven wives, twelve of whom give names to the twelve months, Chandra is supposed to show the greatest affection for the fourth, Rohiní; but each of the others, and amongst them Vi[s']ákhá, is represented as jealous of this partiality, and eager to secure the Moon's favour for herself, Dushyanta probably means to compare himself to the Moon (he being of the Lunar race) and [S']akoontalá to Vi[s']ákhá.

54. _Checks its fall_.

Owing to emaciation and disuse of the bow, the callosities on the forearm, usually caused by the bow-string, were not sufficiently prominent to prevent the bracelet from slipping down from the wrist to the elbow, when the arm was raised to support the head. This is a favourite idea with Kálidása to express the attenuation caused by love.

55. _No nuptial rites prevail_.

A marriage without the usual ceremonies is called Gándharva. It was supposed to be the form of marriage prevalent among the nymphs of India's heaven. In the 3rd Book of Manu (v. 22), it is included among the various marriage rites, and is said to be a union proceeding entirely from love, or mutual inclination, and concluded without any religious services, and without consulting relatives. It was recognized as a legal marriage by Manu and other lawgivers, though it is difficult to say in what respect it differed from unlawful cohabitation.

56. _The loving birds doomed by fate to nightly separation_.

That is, the male and female of the Chakraváka, commonly called Chakwa and Chakwí, or Bráhmaní duck (_Anas casarca_). These birds associate together during the day, and are, like turtle-doves, patterns of connubial affection; but the legend is, that they are doomed to pass the night apart, in consequence of a curse pronounced upon them by a saint whom they had offended. As soon as night commences, they take up their station on the opposite banks of a river, and call to each other in piteous cries. The Bengálís consider their flesh to be a good medicine for fever.

57. _The great sage Durvásas_.