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Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works Part 17

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But what does Gautami say?

_Gautami_. This is advice sufficient for a bride. (_To_ SHAKUNTALA.) You will not forget, my child.

_Kanva_. Come, my daughter, embrace me and your friends.

_Shakuntala_. Oh, Father! Must my friends turn back too?

_Kanva_. My daughter, they too must some day be given in marriage.



Therefore they may not go to court. Gautami will go with you.

_Shakuntala_ (_throwing her arms about her father_). I am torn from my father's breast like a vine stripped from a sandal-tree on the Malabar hills. How can I live in another soil? (_She weeps_.)

_Kanva_. My daughter, why distress yourself so?

A n.o.ble husband's honourable wife, You are to spend a busy, useful life In the world's eye; and soon, as eastern skies Bring forth the sun, from you there shall arise A child, a blessing and a comfort strong-- You will not miss me, dearest daughter, long.

_Shakuntala_ (_falling at his feet_). Farewell, Father.

_Kanva_. My daughter, may all that come to you which I desire for you.

_Shakuntala_ (_going to her two friends_). Come, girls! Embrace me, both of you together.

_The two friends_ (_do so_). Dear, if the good king should perhaps be slow to recognise you, show him the ring with his own name engraved on it.

_Shakuntala_. Your doubts make my heart beat faster.

_The two friends_. Do not be afraid, dear. Love is timid.

_Sharngarava_ (_looking about_). Father, the sun is in mid-heaven. She must hasten.

_Shakuntala_ (_embracing_ KANVA _once more_). Father, when shall I see the pious grove again?

_Kanva_. My daughter,

When you have shared for many years The king's thoughts with the earth, When to a son who knows no fears You shall have given birth,

When, trusted to the son you love, Your royal labours cease, Come with your husband to the grove And end your days in peace.

_Gautami_. My child, the hour of your departure is slipping by. Bid your father turn back. No, she would never do that. Pray turn back, sir.

_Kanva_. Child, you interrupt my duties in the pious grove.

_Shakuntala_. Yes, Father. You will be busy in the grove. You will not miss me. But oh! I miss you. _Kanva_. How can you think me so indifferent? (_He sighs_.)

My lonely sorrow will not go, For seeds you scattered here Before the cottage door, will grow; And I shall see them, dear.

Go. And peace go with you. (_Exit_ SHAKUNTALA, _with_ GAUTAMI, SHARNGARAVA, _and_ SHARADVATA.)

_The two friends_ (_gazing long after her. Mournfully_). Oh, oh!

Shakuntala is lost among the trees.

_Kanva_. a.n.u.suya! Priyamvada! Your companion is gone. Choke down your grief and follow me. (_They start to go back_.)

_The two friends_. Father, the grove seems empty without Shakuntala.

_Kanva_. So love interprets. (_He walks about, sunk in thought_.) Ah!

I have sent Shakuntala away, and now I am myself again. For

A girl is held in trust, another's treasure; To arms of love my child to-day is given; And now I feel a calm and sacred pleasure; I have restored the pledge that came from heaven.

(_Exeunt omnes_.)

ACT V

SHAKUNTALA'S REJECTION

(_Enter a chamberlain_.)

_Chamberlain_ (_sighing_). Alas! To what a state am I reduced!

I once a.s.sumed the staff of reed For custom's sake alone, As officer to guard at need.

The ladies round the throne.

But years have pa.s.sed away and made It serve, my tottering steps to aid.

The king is within. I will tell him of the urgent business which demands his attention. (_He takes a few steps_.) But what is the business? (_He recalls it_.) Yes, I remember. Certain hermits, pupils of Kanva, desire to see his Majesty. Strange, strange!

The mind of age is like a lamp Whose oil is running thin; One moment it is s.h.i.+ning bright, Then darkness closes in.

(_He walks and looks about_.) Here is his Majesty.

He does not seek--until a father's care Is shown his subjects--rest in solitude; As a great elephant recks not of the sun Until his herd is sheltered in the wood.

In truth, I hesitate to announce the coming of Kanva's pupils to the king. For he has this moment risen from the throne of justice. But kings are never weary. For

The sun unyokes his horses never; Blows night and day the breeze; Shesha upholds the world forever: And kings are like to these.

(_He walks about. Enter the king, the clown, and retinue according to rank_.) _King_ (_betraying the cares of office_). Every one is happy on attaining his desire--except a king. His difficulties increase with his power. Thus:

Security slays nothing but ambition; With great possessions, troubles gather thick; Pain grows, not lessens, with a king's position, As when one's hand must hold the sunshade's stick.

_Two court poets behind the scenes_. Victory to your Majesty.

_First poet_.

The world you daily guard and bless, Not heeding pain or weariness; Thus is your nature made.

A tree will brave the noonday, when The sun is fierce, that weary men May rest beneath its shade.

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