Translations of Shakuntala and Other Works | Page 9

often and so high,
He does not seem to run, but fly.
(In surprise.) Pursue as I may, I can hardly keep him in sight.
Charioteer. Your Majesty, I have been holding the horses back because
the ground was rough. This checked us and gave the deer a lead. Now
we are on level ground, and you will easily overtake him.
King. Then let the reins hang loose.

Charioteer. Yes, your Majesty. (He counterfeits rapid motion.) Look,
your Majesty!
The lines hang loose; the steeds unreined
Dart forward with a will.

Their ears are pricked; their necks are strained;
Their plumes lie
straight and still.
They leave the rising dust behind;
They seem to
float upon the wind.
King (joyfully). See! The horses are gaining on the deer.
As onward and onward the chariot flies,
The small flashes large to
my dizzy eyes.
What is cleft in twain, seems to blur and mate;
What
is crooked in nature, seems to be straight.
Things at my side in an
instant appear
Distant, and things in the distance, near.
A voice behind the scenes. O King, this deer belongs to the hermitage,
and must not be killed.
Charioteer (listening and looking). Your Majesty, here are two hermits,
come to save the deer at the moment when your arrow was about to
fall.
King (hastily). Stop the chariot.
Charioteer. Yes, your Majesty. (_He does so. Enter a hermit with his
pupil_.)
Hermit (lifting his hand). O King, this deer belongs to the hermitage.
Why should his tender form expire,
As blossoms perish in the fire?

How could that gentle life endure
The deadly arrow, sharp and sure?
Restore your arrow to the quiver;
To you were weapons lent
The
broken-hearted to deliver,
Not strike the innocent.
King (bowing low). It is done. (He does so.)

Hermit (joyfully). A deed worthy of you, scion of Puru's race, and
shining example of kings. May you beget a son to rule earth and
heaven.
King (bowing low). I am thankful for a Brahman's blessing.
The two hermits. O King, we are on our way to gather firewood. Here,
along the bank of the Malini, you may see the hermitage of Father
Kanva, over which Shakuntala presides, so to speak, as guardian deity.
Unless other deities prevent, pray enter here and receive a welcome.
Besides,
Beholding pious hermit-rites
Preserved from fearful harm,
Perceive
the profit of the scars
On your protecting arm.
King. Is the hermit father there?
The two hermits. No, he has left his daughter to welcome guests, and
has just gone to Somatirtha, to avert an evil fate that threatens her.
King. Well, I will see her. She shall feel my devotion, and report it to
the sage.
The two hermits. Then we will go on our way. (_Exit hermit with
pupil_.)
King. Charioteer, drive on. A sight of the pious hermitage will purify
us.
Charioteer. Yes, your Majesty. (He counterfeits motion again.)
King (looking about). One would know, without being told, that this is
the precinct of a pious grove.
Charioteer_. How so? _King. Do you not see? Why, here
Are rice-grains, dropped from bills of parrot chicks
Beneath the trees;
and pounding-stones where sticks
A little almond-oil; and trustful

deer
That do not run away as we draw near;
And river-paths that are
besprinkled yet
From trickling hermit-garments, clean and wet.
Besides,
The roots of trees are washed by many a stream
That breezes ruffle;
and the flowers' red gleam
Is dimmed by pious smoke; and fearless
fawns
Move softly on the close-cropped forest lawns.
Charioteer. It is all true.
King (after a little). We must not disturb the hermitage. Stop here while
I dismount.
Charioteer. I am holding the reins. Dismount, your Majesty.
King (dismounts and looks at himself). One should wear modest
garments on entering a hermitage. Take these jewels and the bow. (_He
gives them to the charioteer_.) Before I return from my visit to the
hermits, have the horses' backs wet down.
Charioteer. Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.)
King (walking and looking about). The hermitage! Well, I will enter.
(As he does so, he feels a throbbing in his arm.)
A tranquil spot! Why should I thrill?
Love cannot enter there--
Yet
to inevitable things
Doors open everywhere.
A voice behind the scenes. This way, girls!
King (listening). I think I hear some one to the right of the grove. I
must find out. (He walks and looks about.) Ah, here are hermit-girls,
with watering-pots just big enough for them to handle. They are
coming in this direction to water the young trees. They are charming!
The city maids, for all their pains,
Seem not so sweet and good;
Our

garden blossoms yield to these
Flower-children of the wood.
I will draw back into the shade and wait for them. (_He stands, gazing
toward them. Enter_ SHAKUNTALA, as described, and her two
friends.)
First friend. It seems to me, dear, that Father Kanva cares more for the
hermitage trees than he does for you. You are delicate