by Kalidasa
DRIVER. How?
KING. Don’t you see, my friend? Here
Beneath the trees lie grains of wild rice, slipped (14)
From lips of hollow trunks, where parrots nest;
A scattering of oily stones betrays
The pounding of iņgudi nuts;* at graze,
The confident deer stroll by undistressed,
And tolerate our noise; here, water has dripped
From the fringes of bark garments* to make
New paths from the river, or from some lake.
The roots of these trees are washed continuously (14a)
By the breeze-rippled waters of dug canals;
The drifting smoke of sacrificial ghee*
Matts the white lustre of fresh young shoots; small
Deer crop the new darbha crop,
Fearlessly and slow,
From dappled shadow
To dappled shadow,
To deeper shadows still.
DRIVER. It’s all as you say.
KING [going a little further]. We mustn’t disturb the inhabitants of the ascetic’s grove. Stop the chariot, and I’ll get down here.
DRIVER. I’m reining in … You can dismount now, my lord.
KING [stepping down]. Driver, all men should look modest and humble when they enter such a holy grove—so take these. [He hands his driver his insignia and bow] And while I’m with these hermits, you’ll have time to wash the horses down.
DRIVER. As you command, sire.
[Exit DRIVER
KING [turning and seeing]. Here’s the entrance to the hermitage. I’ll go in.
[As he enters, it is apparent from his gesture that some
omen has struck him
So still a place, yet now this vein throbs in my arm, (15)
Presaging some woman’s charm.*
In an ashram? Destiny
Is fixed, and all doors open onto what must be.
A VOICE OFF-STAGE. This way, my friends, this way.
KING [listening]. Ah, voices from south of that grove. I’ll go in that direction. [Turning and looking] Yes! Those hermitage girls are coming this way to water the young trees, each balancing a jug that seems made for her alone. [With intensity] Oh, but they make a charming sight!
If such beauty thrives in the realm of trees— (16)
Beauty rare in courtesans’ private rooms—
Wild creepers have qualities that, with ease,
Surpass our cultivated garden blooms.
In the depths of this shadow, I’ll wait for them now.
[Stands, watching them
Enter ŚAKUNTALĀ, occupied as described, with two female friends, ANASŪYĀ and PRIYAṂVADĀ.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. Over here, my friends, over here!
ANASūYā. Dear Śakuntalā, I suspect father Kaṇva loves the ashram’s trees even more than he loves you—for, delicate as jasmine blossom yourself, he has still appointed you to water their roots.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. It’s not just father’s instructions. I love them like sisters.
[Mimes watering the trees
KING. What’s this? She’s Kaṇva’s daughter? Then it hardly seems right that the holy sage should have assigned her the menial tasks of the ashram.
Indeed, the seer, who would put to duty (17)
And penance this supreme natural beauty,
Tries to shape mahogany or metal
With the rim of a dark lotus petal.
Let it be. I’ll step aside and watch her discreetly. [He does so
ŚAKUNTALĀ. Friend, Anasūyā, I can hardly breathe in this bark blouse—Priyaṃvadā has pulled it far too tight. Just loosen it a little, will you?
ANASŪYĀ. There you are. [Loosens it
PRIYAṂVADĀ [laughing]. It’s nothing to do with me! Scold your own youth that makes your breasts swell so.
KING. She’s right:
Tied to her shoulder by a makeshift knot, (17a)
The mottled garment chafes her youthful breasts,
And folds her, like a blossom in a pale bud.
That bark dress certainly doesn’t reveal her figure, yet somehow her beauty is enhanced—jewellery couldn’t do it better. Indeed:
The lotus glows, though weeds drag down its roots, (18)
A dark penumbra makes the moon more light,
And this slight child beggars her beggar’s clothes—
All rags are gowns on girls who burn this bright.
ŚAKUNTALĀ [looking in front of her]. Look how this mango seems to beckon, how its shoots implore me in the breeze. I must water it.
[She circumambulates it
PRIYAṂVADĀ. Dear Śakuntalā, stay there just for a moment … With you next to it, that tree looks as though it’s been married to a beautiful, sinuous vine.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. ‘Priyaṃvadā’s’ the right name for you—‘sweet talker’,* indeed!
KING. Sweet, but true, are Priyaṃvadā’s words. For
Her lower lip’s as red as a fresh young bud, (19)
Her arms are tender shoots, supple yet trim,
And like a longed-for blossom, gathering strength,
Youth pushes up through all her limbs.
ANASŪYĀ. Dear Śakuntalā, here’s that jasmine you call Light of the Forest. She’s chosen the fragrant mango as her bridegroom.* You’ve forgotten her.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. Only when I forget myself. [Approaches the jasmine and gazes at it] My dear friend, the union of this tree and this jasmine has taken place at the most wonderful time—the jasmine is a young plant, covered in fresh blossoms, the mango has soft buds, and is ready for enjoyment …
[She stands gazing at them
PRIYAṂVADĀ. Anasūyā, do you know why Śakuntalā is so fascinated with that jasmine?
ANASŪYĀ. I can’t imagine—do tell.
PRIYAṂVADĀ. She’s thinking—’Just as the jasmine has found a suitable tree, so may I too find a suitable husband.’
ŚAKUNTALĀ. Isn’t that your heart’s desire?
[She pours from the pitcher
KING. Indeed, if only she could be the child of the brahmin holy man and a woman of a different class.* But why should I worry?
Truly, if my noble heart desires her, (20)
That makes her fit to be a prince’s wife,
For the wise man trusts his heart
To lead him out of doubt.
Still, I must find out the truth about her.
ŚAKUNTALĀ [in confusion]. Aiee! Disturbed by my watering, a bee has flown out of the jasmine into my face!
[She shows every sign of being attacked by a bee
KING [longingly]. Wonderful! Even this threat enhances her charm:
Where the bee flies (20a)
There fly her eyes,
Beneath her lovely knitted brows,
She darts an ardent glance,
Inspired by fear.
Mere practice, for on other days,
Such looks shall match a lover’s gaze
In pure desire.
Ah, honey-maker, fanned by her lashes, (21)
You brush her tender lids, or hover
In her ear, murmuring a secret
That is yours alone. But, best of wishes,
You brave her flailing hands, and from that under-
Lip you steal the concentrated power
Of love.
And so you win her,
While I am stalled,
In supposition.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. So bold, it won’t give up. Over here—but no, it’s following! Friends, save me from this obstinate rogue.
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ [smiling]. Who are we to protect you? Call on Duṣyanta for help—everyone knows ascetic groves are protected by the king.
KING. A chance to show myself. Don’t be afr- [mutters aside as he breaks off]. No, no, that’s too obvious, they’ll know who I am. I’ll do it this way instead …
ŚAKUNTALĀ [taking another step and glancing around]. How! It’s still after me!
KING [quickly stepping f
orward]. Ha!
What oaf dares bring such discord and confusion (22)
Into the tender lives of hermit girls,
When the entire region enjoys the protection
Of the chastising Paurava king?*
[On the KING’S appearance, they all become agitated
ANASŪYĀ. My lord, it’s nothing serious. Our friend was bothered by a bee, and became agitated. [She points out ŚAKUNTALĀ
KING [going up to ŚAKUNTALĀ]. Is your religious practice going well?
[ŚAKUNTALĀ stands, speechless in consternation
ANASŪYĀ. It is indeed, now that we have a distinguished guest. Śakuntalā dear, run to the hermitage and fetch some fruit and refreshments to offer our visitor. We can use this water for his feet.
KING. Ladies, your kind words alone are all the refreshment I require.
PRIYAṂVADĀ. Then at least, sir, rest yourself by taking a seat in the cool shade of this spreading tree.
KING. But you too must be feeling tired after all your work. Join me for a while, won’t you?
ANASŪYĀ. Śakuntalā, dear, it’s only proper that we look after our guest. Sit down here with us.
[They all sit down
ŚAKUNTALĀ [to herself]. But how can it have happened that, simply at the sight of this man, I am shaken with a passion so at odds with the religious life?
KING [looking at them together]. Ah, ladies! What a charming friendship, and between such equals in youth and beauty.
PRIYAṂVADĀ [aside]. Anasūyā, who is he? He speaks so sweetly and with such charm, he seems to have such majesty, and yet there’s an air of mystery about him.
ANASŪYĀ. My dear, I can’t wait to find out either—I’m going to ask him directly. [Aloud] Your Honour’s fine speech makes me bold to ask—which line of royal sages is graced by Your Honour? … And what is the name of that country whose people are now pining because of their separation from you? … And why have you subjected your most refined self to the trouble of visiting our hermitage?*
ŚAKUNTALĀ [to herself]. Calm yourself: Anasūyā is asking everything you’d like to know.
KING [to himself]. Shall I make myself known now, or shall I remain incognito? Well … let me put it like this. [Aloud] Lady, I have been appointed by the Paurava king as Minister for Religious Welfare. And in that capacity I’ve come to this sacred forest to ensure your rituals are not obstructed in any way.
ANASŪYĀ. NOW the performers of religious rites have a minister!
[ŚAKUNTALĀ displays all the embarrassment of erotic attraction*
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ [noting the expressions of the other two, aside to ŚAKUNTALĀ]. Dear Śakuntalā, if father were here with us today …
ŚAKUNTALĀ. What would happen?
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ. He would make sure that this distinguished guest had everything he wanted—and that includes his most valuable treasure.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. That’s enough! You’ve got some silly notion in your heads. I’m not listening to another word.
KING. Now I too have something to ask—about your friend.
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ. Sir, it’s an honour to be asked by you.
KING. It is public knowledge that Lord KAṆVA lives in a state of perpetual chastity—and yet your friend is his daughter. How is that?
ANASŪYĀ. I’ll tell you, sir. There’s a certain very powerful royal sage, whose family name is Kauśika …*
KING. Yes, I’ve heard of him—goon.
ANASŪYĀ. He’s the … natural father of our friend, but it was Father KAṆVA who fostered her when she was abandoned, so he’s her father too, you understand.
KING. ‘Abandoned’, you say? How very interesting. Tell me everything, from the beginning.
ANASŪYĀ. It was like this, sir. Some years ago now, that royal sage was engaged in some powerful ascetic exercises on the banks of the Gautamī river. This upset the gods, who sent the nymph Menakā to test his self-restraint.
KING. Yes, they say the gods have this fear of others practising deep meditation.* So what happened then?
ANASŪYĀ. Ah, my lord! It was the beginning of spring when he caught sight of her intoxicating body …
[She breaks off modestly half-may through
KING. I see. The upshot is, this lady’s the daughter of the nymph.
ANASŪYĀ. Exactly.
KING. It all makes sense, for
How could such beauty stem from mortal birth? (23)
Does lightning strike upwards out of the earth?
[ŚAKUNTALĀ stands looking down at her feet
[To himself] My desires have a foothold at last!* But wait—what about her friend’s teasing prayer for a husband? I’m undermined again.
PRIYAṂVADĀ [smiling first at ŚAKUNTALĀ, then turning to face the king]. Your Honour seems to want to say something else.
[ŚAKUNTALĀ wags her finger at her friend
KING. You’re quite right, lady. Because I’m so eager to hear about the lives of the virtuous, there is another question I should like to ask.
PRIYAṂVADĀ. Don’t hesitate, my lord—there are no bars to what you may ask an ascetic.
KING. Then tell me this about your friend:
How long will she keep her love-starved hermit vows— (24)
Till she changes them for the marriage kind?
Or will she live forever among these hinds,
Doe-eyed among her beloved does?
PRIYAṂVADĀ. Sir, she is not a free agent, especially in the matter of religious duty. But it is her guardian’s intention to give her in marriage to a suitable husband.
KING[to himself]. There’s no great difficulty in that.
Heart, give in to your desire— (25)
This removes all doubt.
What you supposed a fire
Is a jewel that may be felt.
ŚAKUNTALĀ [as though very angry]. Anasūyā, I’m going now!
ANASŪYĀ. Why?
ŚAKUNTALĀ. I’m off to the venerable Gautamī* to report Priyaṃvadā here for talking such nonsense.
ANASŪYĀ. But my dear friend, it’s simply not done to neglect the hospitality of a distinguished guest and trip off just as the fancy takes you.
[ŚAKUNTALĀ sets off without replying
KING [wanting to catch hold of her, but then restraining himself]. Ah, the workings of a lover’s mind are almost actions in themselves! For I
Seemed to go, and yet (26)
I never moved towards her—
Nice manners suddenly disabling
My pursuit of the forest sage’s daughter.
PRIYAṂVADĀ [holding ŚAKUNTALĀ back]. Darling, it’s simply not proper for you to leave now.
ŚAKUNTALĀ [frowning]. Why ever not?
PRIYAṂVADĀ. You owe me for watering two of your trees. Repay me in kind, and so release yourself. [So saying, she steers her back
KING. Gracious lady, I can see that your young friend is already exhausted from watering. Look how
From heaving up the pot, her palms are raw, (27)
Her shoulders stoop,
Her breath is laboured and her bosom shakes,
All sifted strength.
On filmy sweat the mimosa’s bloom
Slides from ear to cheek,
And as her hairband slips, those cobalt locks
Flow round her submerged hand
Like water round a rock.
So let me discharge her debt for her.
[He offers her his signet-ring. Reading the inscription on
the seal, the girls stare at each other
KING. Don’t misunderstand. This is a gift from the king—and I, as you know, am the king’s man.
PRIYAṂVADĀ. In that case, it’s not right for the ring to leave your finger. She is already free of her debt by Your Honour’s word. [Laughing a little] Dear Śakuntalā, you have been released by His Honour’s compassion—or should I say by the king himself? So now you must go …
ŚAKUNTALĀ [to herself]. If I h
ave the strength. [Aloud] Who are you to release or detain me?
KING [watching ŚAKUNTALĀ; to himself]. Can it be that she feels for me what I feel for her? Then perhaps I have a real chance, for:
What though she doesn’t answer me directly? (28)
What though she doesn’t look me in the face?
When I speak, she is quiet attention,
When I gaze, evasive grace.
OFF-STAGE VOICE. Quick! Quick, you ascetics! Get ready to save the animals in our sacred grove! King Duṣyanta is somewhere near at hand, revelling in the chase.
Dust beaten upwards by his horses’ hooves, (29)
Dust, like a locust cloud,
Unfurls and swarms
On the trees
On the half-dry tunics—
Dust red as the dying sun.
Worse still:
The penances we strove to execute are incomplete— (30)
Panicked by the chariots, scattering the grazing does,
Creepers like broken lariats snaking round its feet,
An elephant obliterates the sacred grove.
Obstruction incarnate, on its tusk
It pulps with juddering blows
A saplings’s skewered trunk.
[At this, the women become agitated
KING [to himself]. Ah! My people are invading the grove trying to find me! I must go straight back.
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ. Sir, we’re frightened by this talk of an elephant. Please allow us to return to our hut.
KING [agitated himself]. By all means go, ladies. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to make sure no harm comes to the ashram.
[They all get up
ANASŪYĀ AND PRIYAṂVADĀ. Sir, our hospitality has been so poor that we hardly dare to ask Your Honour to visit us again.
KING. That’s not true. Besides, just to be with you ladies is hospitality enough.
ŚAKUNTALĀ. Anasūyā! I’ve spiked my foot on a blade of grass … And now my blouse is snagged on a branch. Wait while I free myself!
[Using this pretence to remain gazing at the king, ŚAKUNTALĀ
finally leaves with her friends
KING. Suddenly, the city doesn’t seem so attractive. I’ll link up with my followers and camp just outside this sacred grove. The truth is, I can’t get Śakuntalā out of my head.
