Shakuntala (play)

"General: Victory to the King! We have tracked the wild beasts to their lairs in the forest. Why delay, when everything is ready?"

"King: My friend Máthavya here has been disparaging the chase, till he has taken away all my relish for it....My good General, as we are just now in the neighbourhood of a consecrated grove, your panegyric upon hunting is somewhat ill-timed, and I cannot assent to all you have said."

"King: Recall, then, the beaters who were sent in advance to surround the forest. My troops must not be allowed to disturb this sacred retreat, and irritate its pious inhabitants."

"King: Máthavya, it may be said of you that you have never beheld anything worth seeing; for your eyes have not yet looked upon the loveliest object in creation."

"Máthavya: If, as you intimate, she is a hermit's daughter, you cannot lawfully ask her in marriage. You may as well then dismiss her from your mind, for any good the mere sight of her can do."

"King: Think you that a descendant of the mighty Puru could fix his affections on an unlawful object? Though, as men say, the offspring of the sage, The maiden to a nymph celestial owes Her being, and by her mother left on earth, Was found and nurtured by the holy man As his own daughter, in this hermitage. So, when dissevered from its parent stalk, Some falling blossom of the jasmine, wafted Upon the sturdy sun-flower, right|thumb|I will describe her, my dear friend, in a few words, Man's all-wise Maker, wishing to create A faultless form, whose matchless symmetry Should far transcend Creation's choicest works,... - w:Dushyanta|King Dushyanta"

"Máthavya: This passion of yours for a rustic maiden, when you have so many gems of women at home in your palace, seems to me very like the fancy of a man who is tired of sweet dates, and longs for sour tamarinds as a variety....I can quite understand it must require something surpassingly attractive to excite the admiration of such a great man as you."

"King: I will describe her, my dear friend, in a few words, Man's all-wise Maker, wishing to create A faultless form, whose matchless symmetry Should far transcend Creation's choicest works, Did call together by his mighty will, And garner up in his eternal mind, A bright assemblage of all lovely things;And then, as in a picture, fashion them Into one perfect and ideal form— Such the divine, the wondrous prototype, Whence her fair shape was moulded into being."

"Máthavya: Make haste, then, to her aid; you have no time to lose, if you don't wish this fruit of all the virtues to drop into the mouth of some greasy-headed rustic of devout habits."

"King: Maidens brought up in a hermitage are naturally shy and reserved; but for all that She did look towards me, though she quick withdrew Her stealthy glances when she met my gaze; She smiled upon me sweetly, but disguised With maiden grace the secret of her smiles. Coy love was half unveiled; then, sudden checked By modesty, left half to be divined."

"Máthavya: Why, of course, my dear friend, you never could seriously expect that at the very first sight she would fall over head ears in love with you, and without more ado come and sit in your lap."

"King: You must know, my good fellow, that I have been recognised by some of the inmates of the hermitage. Now I want the assistance of your fertile invention, in devising some excuse for going there again."

"Two hermits: The inhabitants of the hermitage, having heard of your Majesty's sojourn in our neighbourhood, make this humble petition:In the absence of our Superior, the great sage Kanwa, evil demons are disturbing our sacrificial rites. Deign, therefore, accompanied by your charioteer, to take up your abode in our hermitage for a few days."

"King: Go first, reverend Sirs, I will follow you immediately."

"Warder: Sire, the chariot is ready, and only waits to conduct you to victory. But here is a messenger named Karabhaka, just arrived from your capital, with a message from the Queen, your mother."

"Karabhaka: Victory to the King! The Queen-mother bids me say that in four days from the present time she intends celebrating a solemn ceremony for the advancement and preservation of her son. She expects that your Majesty will honour her with your presence on that occasion."

"King: Friend Máthavya, as you were my playfellow in childhood, the Queen has already received you like a second son; go you, then, back to her, and tell her of my solemn engagement to assist these holy men. You can supply my place in the ceremony, and act the part of a son to the Queen."

"Máthavya: Already I feel quite like a young prince."

"King: This is a giddy fellow, and in all probability he will let out the truth about my present pursuit to the women of the palace. What is to be done? I must say something to deceive him."

"King: Dear friend, I am going to the hermitage wholly and solely out of respect for its pious inhabitants, and not because I have really any liking for [S']akoontalá, the hermit's daughter. Observe: What suitable communion could there be Between a monarch and a rustic girl? I did but feign an idle passion, friend, Take not in earnest what was said in jest."

"Máthavya: Don't distress yourself; I quite understand."

"King: 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 ! we lovers are cruelly deceived by thee, and by the Moon, however deserving of confidence you may both appear...."

"King: Welcome this anguish, welcome to my heart These rankling wounds inflicted by the god, Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish 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?... I have but one resource. Oh for another sight of the Idol of my soul! I will seek her."

"King: I will peep through those branches. 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."

"Anasúyá: We know very little about love-matters, dear Shakoontalá; 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."

"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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Dear friends, to no one would I rather reveal the nature of my malady than to you; but I should only be troubling you."

"Priyamvadáand 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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: 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—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. 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 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."

"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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Well, I will do my best; but my heart trembles when I think of the chances of a refusal....Listen, dear friends, and tell me whether the ideas are appropriately expressed. 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: 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: Welcome, the desire of our hearts, that so speedily presents itself!"

"SHAKOONTALÁ toPriyamvadá 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 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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: 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, 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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Leave me, leave me; I must take counsel with my female friends."

"King: I will leave thee 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."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: 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."

"Gautami: My child, is the fever of thy limbs allayed?"

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Venerable mother, there is certainly a change for the better."

"Gautami: Let me sprinkle you with this holy water, and all your ailments will depart. The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: 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!Farewell! bower of creepers, sweet soother of my sufferings, farewell! may I soon again be happy under thy shade."

"Benediction. Í[S'] a preserve you ! he who is revealed In these eight forms by man perceptible— Water, of all creation's works the first; The Fire that bears on high the sacrifice Presented with solemnity to heaven; The Priest, the holy offerer of gifts; The Sun and Moon, those two majestic orbs, Eternal marshallers of day and night; The subtle Ether, vehicle of sound, Diffused throughout the boundless universe; The Earth, by sages called 'The place of birth Of all material essences and things'; And Air, which giveth life to all that breathe."