Act III Scene — The Sacred Grove
Enter KING DUSHYANTA, with the air of one in love.
KING. [Sighing thoughtfully.
The holy sage possesses magic power
In virtue of his penance; she, his ward,
Under the shadow of his tutelage,
Rests in security, I know it well;
Yet sooner shall the rushing cataract
In foaming eddies re-ascend the steep,
Than my fond heart turn back from its pursuit.
God of love! God of the flowery shafts [47]! we lovers are cruelly deceived by thee, and by the Moon, however deserving of confidence you may both appear.
For not to us do these thine arrows seem
Pointed with tender flowerets; not to us
Doth the pale Moon irradiate the earth
With beams of silver fraught with cooling dews;
But on our fevered frames the moon-beams fall
Like darts of fire, and every flower-tipt shaft
Of Káma[47], as it probes our throbbing hearts,
Seems to be barbed with hardest adamant.
Adorable god of love! hast thou no pity for me?
[In a tone of anguish.]
How can thy arrows be so sharp when they are pointed with flowers? Ah! I know the reason:
E’en now in thine unbodied essence lurks
The fire of [S’]iva’s anger48, like the flame
That ever hidden in the secret depths
Of ocean, smoulders there unseen[49]. How else
Could’st thou, all immaterial as thou art,
Inflame our hearts thus fiercely?—thou, whose form
Was scorched to ashes by a sudden flash
From the offended god’s terrific eye.
Yet, methinks,
Welcome this anguish, welcome to my heart
These rankling wounds inflicted by the god,
Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish[50]
Slain by his prowess; welcome death itself,
So that, commissioned by the lord of love,
This fair one be my executioner.
Adorable divinity! Can I by no reproaches excite your commiseration?
Have I not daily offered at thy shrine
Innumerable vows, the only food
Of thine ethereal essence? Are my prayers
Thus to be slighted? Is it meet that thou
Should’st aim thy shafts at thy true votary’s heart,
Drawing thy bow-string even to thy ear?
[Pacing up and down in a melancholy manner.]
Now that the holy men have completed their rites, and have no more need of my services, how shall I dispel my melancholy?
[Sighing.]
I have but one resource. Oh for another sight of the Idol of my soul! I will seek her.
[Glancing at the sun.]
In all probability, as the sun’s heat is now at its height, [S’]akoontalá is passing her time under the shade of the bowers on the banks of the Máliní, attended by her maidens. I will go and look for her there.
[Walking and looking about.]
I suspect the fair one has but just passed by this avenue of young trees.
Here, as she tripped along, her fingers plucked
The opening buds; these lacerated plants,
Shorn of their fairest blossoms by her hand,
Seem like dismembered trunks, whose recent wounds
Are still unclosed; while from the bleeding socket
Of many a severed stalk, the milky juice
Still slowly trickles, and betrays her path.
[Feeling a breeze.]
What a delicious breeze meets me in this spot!
Here may the zephyr, fragrant with the scent
Of lotuses, and laden with the spray
Caught from the waters of the rippling stream,
Fold in its close embrace my fevered limbs.
[Walking and looking about.]
She must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of this arbour of overhanging creepers enclosed by plantations of cane;
[Looking down.]
For at the entrance here I plainly see
A line of footsteps printed in the sand.
Here are the fresh impressions of her feet;
Their well-known outline faintly marked in front,
More deeply towards the heel; betokening
The graceful undulation of her gait[51].
I will peep through those branches.
[Walking and looking. With transport.]
Ah! now my eyes are gratified by an entrancing sight. Yonder is the beloved of my heart reclining on a rock strewn with flowers, and attended by her two friends. How fortunate! Concealed behind the leaves, I will listen to their conversation, without raising their suspicions.
[Stands concealed, and gazes at them.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands, are discovered as described.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
[Fanning her. In a tone of affection.
Dearest [S’]akoontalá, is the breeze raised by these broad lotus-leaves refreshing to you?
[S’]akoontalá
Dear friends, why should you trouble yourselves to fan me?
[PRIYAMVADÁ and ANASÚYÁ look sorrowfully at one another.
King
[S’]akoontalá seems indeed to be seriously ill.
[Thoughtfully.]
Can it be the intensity of the heat that has affected her? or does my heart suggest the true cause of her malady?
[Gazing at her passionately.]
Why should I doubt it?
The maiden’s spotless bosom is o’erspread
With cooling balsam; on her slender arm
Her only bracelet, twined with lotus-stalks,
Hangs loose and withered; her recumbent form
Betokens languor. Ne’er could noon-day sun
Inflict such fair disorder on a maid—
No, love, and love alone, is here to blame.
PRIYAMVADÁ. [Aside to ANASÚYÁ.
I have observed, Anasúyá, that [S’]akoontalá has been indisposed ever since her first interview with King Dushyanta. Depend upon it, her ailment is to be traced to that source.
Anasúyá
The same suspicion, dear, has crossed my mind. But I will at once ask her and ascertain the truth.
[Aloud.]
Dear [S’]akoontalá, I am about to put a question to you. Your indisposition is really very serious.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Half rising from her couch.
What were you going to ask?
Anasúyá
We know very little about love-matters, dear [S’]akoontalá; but for all that, I cannot help suspecting your present state to be something similar to that of the lovers we have heard about in romances. Tell us frankly what is the cause of your disorder. It is useless to apply a remedy, until the disease be understood.
King
Anasúyá bears me out in my suspicion.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Aside.
I am, indeed, deeply in love; but cannot rashly disclose my passion to these young girls.
Priyamvadá
What Anasúyá says, dear [S’]akoontalá, is very just. Why give so little heed to your ailment? Every day you are becoming thinner; though I must confess your complexion is still as beautiful as ever.
King
Priyamvadá speaks most truly.
Sunk is her velvet cheek; her wasted bosom
Loses its fulness; e’en her slender waist
Grows more attenuate; her face is wan,
Her shoulders droop;—as when the vernal blasts
Sear the young blossoms of the Mádhaví[52],
Blighting their bloom; so mournful is the change.
Yet in its sadness, fascinating still,
Inflicted by the mighty lord of love
On the fair figure of the hermit’s daughter.
[S’]akoontalá
Dear friends, to no one would I rather reveal the nature of my malady than to you; but I should only be troubling you.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
Nay, this is the very point about which we are so solicitous. Sorrow shared with affectionate friends is relieved of half its poignancy.
King
Pressed by the partners of her joys and griefs,
Her much beloved companions, to reveal
The cherished secret locked within her breast,
She needs must utter it; although her looks
Encourage me to hope, my bosom throbs
As anxiously I listen for her answer.
[S’]akoontalá
Know then, dear friends, that from the first moment the illustrious Prince who is the guardian of our sacred grove presented himself to my sight—
[Stops short, and appears confused.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
Say on, dear [S’]akoontalá, say on.
[S’]akoontalá
Ever since that happy moment, my heart’s affections have been fixed upon him, and my energies of mind and body have all deserted me, as you see.
KING. [With rapture.
Her own lips have uttered the words I most longed to hear.
Love lit the flame, and Love himself allays
My burning fever, as when gathering clouds
Rise o’er the earth in summer’s dazzling noon,
And grateful showers dispel the morning heat.
[S’]akoontalá
You must consent, then, dear friends, to contrive some means by which I may find favour with the King, or you will have ere long to assist at my funeral.
King
Enough! These words remove all my doubts.
PRIYAMVADÁ. [Aside to ANASÚYÁ.
She is far gone in love, dear Anasúyá, and no time ought to be lost. Since she has fixed her affections on a monarch who is the ornament of Puru’s line, we need not hesitate for a moment to express our approval.
Anasúyá
I quite agree with you.
PRIYAMVADÁ. [Aloud.
We wish you joy, dear [S’]akoontalá. Your affections are fixed on an object in every respect worthy of you,. The noblest river will unite itself to the ocean, and the lovely Mádhaví-creeper clings naturally to the Mango, the only tree capable of supporting it.
King
Why need we wonder if the beautiful constellation Vi[s’]ákhá pines to be united with the Moon[53]?
Anasúyá
By what stratagem can we best secure to our friend the accomplishment of her heart’s desire both speedily and secretly?
Priyamvadá
The latter point is all we have to think about. As to ‘speedily,’ I look upon the whole affair as already settled.
Anasúyá
How so?
Priyamvadá
Did you not observe how the King betrayed his liking by the tender manner in which he gazed upon her, and how thin he has become the last few days, as if he had been lying awake thinking of her?
KING. [Looking at himself.
Quite true! I certainly am becoming thin from want of sleep:
As night by night in anxious thought I raise
This wasted arm to rest my sleepless head,
My jewelled bracelet, sullied by the tears
That trickle from my eyes in scalding streams,
Slips towards my elbow from my shrivelled wrist.
Oft I replace the bauble, but in vain;
So easily it spans the fleshless limb
That e’en the rough and corrugated skin,
Scarred by the bow-string, will not check its fall54.
Priyamvadá
An idea strikes me, Anasúyá. Let [S’]akoontalá write a love-letter; I will conceal it in a flower, and contrive to drop it in the King’s path. He will surely mistake it for the remains of some sacred offering, and will, in all probability, pick it up.
Anasúyá
A very ingenious device! It my entire approval; but what says [S’]akoontalá?
[S’]akoontalá
I must consider before I can consent to it.
Priyamvadá
Could, you not, dear [S’]akoontalá, think of some pretty composition in verse, containing a delicate declaration of your love?
[S’]akoontalá
Well, I will do my best; but my heart trembles when I think of the chances of a refusal.
KING. [With rapture.
Too timid maid, here stands the man from whom
Thou fearest a repulse; supremely blessed
To call thee all his own. Well might he doubt
His title to thy love; but how could’st thou
Believe thy beauty powerless to subdue him?
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
You undervalue your own merits, dear [S’]akoontalá. What man in his senses would intercept with the skirt of his robe the bright rays of the autumnal moon, which alone can allay the fever of his body?
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Smiling.
Then it seems I must do as I am bid.
[Sits down and appears to be thinking.
King
How charming she looks! My very eyes forget to wink, jealous of losing even for an instant a sight so enchanting.
How beautiful the movement of her brow,
As through her mind love’s tender fancies flow!
And, as she weighs her thoughts, how sweet to trace
The ardent passion mantling in her face!
[S’]akoontalá
Dear girls, I have thought of a verse, but I have no writing-materials at hand.
Priyamvadá
Write the letters with your nail on this lotus-leaf, which is smooth as a parrot’s breast.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [After writing the verse.
Listen, dear friends, and tell me whether the ideas are appropriately expressed.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
We are all attention.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Reads.
I know not the secret thy bosom conceals,
Thy form is not near me to gladden my sight;
But sad is the tale that my fever reveals,
Of the love that consumes me by day and by night.
KING. [Advancing hastily towards her.
Nay, Love does but warm thee, fair maiden,—thy frame
Only droops like the bud in the glare of the noon;
But me he consumes with a pitiless flame,
As the beams of the day-star destroy the pale moon.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
[Looking at him joyfully and rising to salute him.
Welcome, the desire of our hearts, that so speedily presents itself!
[[S’]AKOONTALÁ makes an effort to rise.
King
Nay, trouble not thyself, dear maiden.
Move not to do me homage; let thy limbs
Still softly rest upon their flowery couch;
And gather fragrance from the lotus-stalks,
Bruised by the fevered contact of thy frame.
Anasúyá
Deign, gentle Sir, to seat yourself on the rock on which our friend is reposing.
[The KING sits down. [S’]AKOONTALÁ is confused.
Priyamvadá
Any one may see at a glance that you are deeply attached to each other. But the affection I have for my friend prompts me to say something of which you hardly require to be informed.
King
Do not hesitate to speak out, my good girl. If you omit to say what is in your mind, you may be sorry for it afterwards.
Priyamvadá
Is it not your special office as a King to remove the suffering of your subjects who are in trouble?
King
Such is my duty, most assuredly.
Priyamvadá
Know, then, that our dear friend has been brought to her present state of suffering entirely through love for you. Her life is in your hands; take pity on her and restore her to health.
King
Excellent maiden, our attachment is mutual. It is I who am the most honoured by it.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Looking at PRIYAMVADÁ.
What do you mean by detaining the King, who must be anxious to return to his royal consorts after so long a separation?
King
Sweet maiden, banish from thy mind the thought
That I could love another. Thou dost reign
Supreme, without a rival, in my heart,
And I am thine alone; disown me not,
Else must I die a second deadlier death,
Killed by thy words, as erst by Káma’s[47] shafts.
Anasúyá
Kind Sir, we have heard it said that kings have many favourite consorts. You must not, then, by your behaviour towards our dear friend, give her relations cause to sorrow for her.
King
Listen, gentle maiden, while in a few words I quiet your anxiety.
Though many beauteous forms my palace grace,
Henceforth two things alone will I esteem
The glory of my royal dynasty—
My sea-girt realm, and this most lovely maid.
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
We are satisfied by your assurances.
PRIYAMVADÁ. [Glancing on one side.
See, Anasúyá, there is our favourite little fawn running about in great distress, and turning its eyes in every direction as if looking for its mother; come, let us help the little thing to find her. [Both move away.
[S’]akoontalá
Dear friends, dear friends, leave me not alone and unprotected. Why need you both go?
Priyamvadá and Anasúyá
Unprotected! when the Protector of the world is at your side.
[Exeunt.
[S’]akoontalá
What! have they both really left me?
King
Distress not thyself, sweet maiden. Thy adorer is at hand to wait upon thee.
Oh let me tend thee, fair one, in the place
Of thy dear friends; and with broad lotus fans
Raise cooling breezes to refresh thy frame;
Or shall I rather, with caressing touch,
Allay the fever of thy limbs, and soothe
Thy aching feet, beauteous as blushing lilies?
[S’]akoontalá
Nay, touch me not. I will not incur the censure of those whom I am bound to respect.
[Rises and attempts to go.
King
Fair one, the heat of noon has not yet subsided, and thy body is still feeble.
How canst thou quit thy fragrant couch of flowers,
And from thy throbbing bosom cast aside
Its covering of lotus-leaves, to brave
With weak and fainting limbs the noon-day heat?
[Forces her to turn back.
[S’]akoontalá
Infringe not the rules of decorum, mighty descendant of Puru. Remember, though I love you, I have no power to dispose of myself.
King
Why this fear of offending your relations, timid maid? When your venerable foster-father hears of it, he will not find fault with you. He knows that the law permits us to be united without consulting him.
In Indra’s heaven, so at least ’tis said,
No nuptial rites prevail[55], nor is the bride
Led to the altar by her future lord;
But all in secret does the bridegroom plight
His troth, and each unto the other vow
Mutual allegiance. Such espousals, too,
Are authorised on earth, and many daughters
Of royal saints thus wedded to their lords
Have still received their father’s benison.
[S’]akoontalá
Leave me, leave me; I must take counsel with my female friends.
King
I will leave thee when—
[S’]akoontalá
When?
King
When I have gently stolen from thy lips
Their yet untasted nectar, to allay
The raging of my thirst, e’en as the bee
Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud.
[Attempts to raise her face. [S’]AKOONTALÁ tries to prevent him_.
A Voice Behind the Scenes
The loving birds, doomed by fate to nightly separation56, must bid farewell to each other, for evening is at hand.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [In confusion.
Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches.
King
I will. [Conceals himself.
Enter GAUTAMÍ with a vase in her hand, preceded by two attendants.
Attendants
This way, most venerable Gautamí.
GAUTAMÍ. [Approaching [S’]AKOONTALÁ.
My child, is the fever of thy limbs allayed?
[S’]akoontalá
Venerable mother, there is certainly a change for the better.
Gautamí
Let me sprinkle you with this holy water, and all your ailments will depart.
[Sprinkling [S’]AKOONTALÁ on the head_.]
The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage.
[They all move away.
[S’]AKOONTALÁ. [Aside.
Oh my heart! thou didst fear to taste of happiness when it was within thy reach. Now that the object of thy desires is torn from thee, how bitter will be thy remorse, how distracting thine anguish!
[Moving on a few steps and stopping. Aloud.]
Farewell! bower of creepers, sweet soother of my sufferings, farewell! may I soon again be happy under thy shade.
[Exit reluctantly with the others.
King
[Returning to his former seat in the arbour. Sighing.
Alas! how many are the obstacles to the accomplishment of our wishes!
Albeit she did coyly turn away
Her glowing cheek, and with her fingers guard
Her pouting lips, that murmured a denial
In faltering accents, she did yield herself
A sweet reluctant captive to my will.
As eagerly I raised her lovely face;
But ere with gentle force I stole the kiss,
Too envious Fate did mar my daring purpose.
Whither now shall I betake myself? I will tarry for a brief space in this bower of creepers, so endeared to me by the presence of my beloved [S’]akoontalá.
[Looking round.
Here printed on the flowery couch I see
The fair impression of her slender limbs;
Here is the sweet confession of her love,
Traced with her nail upon the lotus-leaf;
And yonder are the withered lily-stalks
That graced her wrist. While all around I view
Things that recall her image, can I quit
This bower, e’en though its living be fled?
A Voice in the Air
Great King,
Scarce is our evening sacrifice begun,
When evil demons, lurid as the clouds
That gather round the dying orb of day,
Cluster in hideous troops, obscene and dread,
About our altars, casting far and near
Terrific shadows, while the sacred fire
Sheds a pale lustre o’er their ghostly shapes.
King
I come to the rescue, I come.
[Exit.