The Recognition of Sakuntala (Oxford World's Classics)

by Kalidasa

  GAUTAMĪ. Child, the time for us to leave has passed. Release your father now … She’ll go on saying the same things forever, if you let her, sir. Please turn back now.

  KAṆVA. My dear, I’ve neglected my practice for long enough.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [embracing her father again]. This body has been wasted already by ascetic practices. Don’t make it worse by too much grieving over me!

  KAṆVA [sighing].

  Child, when I see that the grains of rice you offered (21)

  Have sprouted in your shelter’s doorway,

  How shall grief not overwhelm me?

  Go, and may God himself protect you!

  [Exit ŚAKUNTALĀ with her escort

  PRIYAṂVADĀ AND ANASUYĀ [gazing after her]. Alas! Alas! Śakuntalā has faded into the trees of the forest!

  KAṆVA [with a sigh]. Anasūyā, your companion has gone—as she had to. So control your sorrow, and follow me home.

  PRIYAṂVADĀ AND ANASŪYĀ. Father, the ascetic grove is empty without Śakuntalā. How can we ever enter there again?

  KAṆVA. The strength of your love makes it seem so. [Walking around, meditatively] Yes, I am satisfied now that I’ve seen Śakuntalā off to her husband’s house. For:

  A daughter’s never really ours— (22)

  And now I’ve sent her to her husband’s home,

  I feel that inner calm a debtor feels

  When he’s repaid a loan.

  [All exit

  ACT 5

  The KING and the VIDŪṢAKA enter and sit down together.

  VIDŪṢAKA. Listen, my friend! Can you hear that melody, so sweet, so clear? It’s coming from the music room. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the lady Haṃsapadikā, practising a song.

  KING. If you’d care to be quiet, I might have a chance of hearing her.

  VOICE [singing in the air].

  Have you forgotten—forgotten so soon, (1)

  How you settled on the mango bloom,

  Turning nectar to honey with kisses?

  Have you really forgotten what bliss is?

  To change it so quickly

  For the wan and sickly

  Night-flowering lotus?

  KING. Ah, the melodic line is full of passion.

  VIDŪṢAKA. Yes, but did you understand the words?

  KING [smiling]. I made love to her once. And now she chides me because of Queen Vasumatī.* Friend Mādhavya, tell Hamsapadikā—using my words only, mind—that I have been ‘soundly reproached’.

  VIDŪṢAKA. As you wish, my lord. [Rising] But farewell to liberation! When she grabs my tuft of hair,* I’ll be like some passionless ascetic yanked out of his meditation by a heavenly nymph.

  KING. Go on! I’m sure a man of your urbanity will have no trouble charming her.

  VIDŪṢAKA. What a way to go!

  [Exit VIDŪṢAKA

  KING [to himself]. Why should this song fill me with desire, when

  I’m not even separated from someone I love? But perhaps

  It’s what survives of love from other lives, (2)

  Trapped in certain forms and sounds,

  And then released by song,

  That keys my mood

  From happiness to longing.

  [He remains in some bewilderment

  The CHAMBERLAIN enters.

  CHAMBERLAIN. Ah, I’m in a poor way!

  This staff I carried like a straw— (3)

  Mere badge of office in the king’s harem—

  Must help me, now my youth’s a dream,

  To cross a level floor.

  A king can’t put off his duty. He may have hardly risen from his judgement-seat—and I don’t like disturbing him again—but there are these pupils of KAṆVA who have just arrived. There’s no rest for those who rule the earth:

  Once yoked, the sun must run its course, (4)

  The wind must blow both day and night,

  The cosmic snake must bear the weight

  Of the wide world—and kings perforce

  Are bound to nurture and protect

  The men they tax.

  So I must do my duty too. [Walking and looking about] Here’s His Majesty:

  Like the bull elephant that leads its herd (5)

  Through the midday heat, then halts beneath a tree,

  This lord is wearied by the constant care

  His subjects need, and seeks a place to rest.

  [Approaching

  Victory! Victory to Your Majesty! Some forest ascetics have arrived from the foothills of the Himālayas with a message from sage KAṆVA. They’ve brought women with them, too. Now Your Majesty will have to work it all out.

  KING [surprised]. They’re messengers? From Kaṇva?

  CHAMBERLAIN. They are indeed.

  KING. In that case, please tell preceptor Somarāta that he should welcome these hermitage-dwellers with the proper Vedic rites, and then bring them to me himself. I’ll be just over there—an appropriate place to greet ascetics.

  CHAMBERLAIN. As Your Majesty commands.

  [CHAMBERLAIN exits

  KING [rising]. Vetravatī, lead the way to the fire sanctuary.

  DOORKEEPER. This way, my lord.

  KING [walking about, showing weariness]. All beings are happy once they’ve gratified their desires, except for kings, who must be satisfied with dissatisfaction, for:

  Absolute power corrodes itself, (6)

  Just maintaining the realm exhausts,

  The royal parasol fatigues

  Without support.

  TWO BARDS [off-stage]. Victory to Your Majesty!

  FIRST BARD.

  Day in, day out (7)

  Your own delight

  Is subject to the peoples’ needs—

  Great trees deflect the midday heat

  From those who seek their shade.

  SECOND BARD.

  The miscreant bows before your rod, (8)

  You arbitrate and give protection.

  Riches and power attract

  Spurious relations,

  Yet all your subjects,

  High or low,

  You treat as kinsmen.

  KING. How can I feel depressed after that? [He walks around

  DOORKEEPER. Here’s the terrace of the fire sanctuary, fresh from a wash, and there’s the cow waiting to give milk for the oblation. Will you step up, Your Majesty?

  [The KING ascends, and stands there, leaning on the DOORKEEPER

  KING. Why do you suppose the holy KAṆVA has sent these sages to see me?

  Has their practice been disrupted—obstructed? (9)

  Has someone threatened the deer—the sacred grove?

  Is it something that I’ve done, or something I’ve neglected,

  Withers their flowering vine?

  Vetravatī, don’t ask me why—I can’t define it—

  But this fills me with unease.

  DOORKEEPER. I should think that these sages are simply overjoyed by Your Majesty’s impeccable conduct, and have come to honour you.

  Led by the CHAMBERLAIN and the COURT PRIEST, the ASCETICS (ŚĀRṄGARAVA and ŚĀRADVATA) enter, with GAUTAMĪ and ŚAKUNTALĀ in front.

  CHAMBERLAIN. This is the way, sirs!

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. Śāradvata,

  I know that this famous king is righteous, (10)

  And that even the lowest here are good

  [In their peculiar way]; but, to one so long

  Secluded, this palace and its people

  Burn in hell.

  ŚĀRADVATA. How are we supposed to feel in such a place? Look at these city people,

  These pleasure-lovers: (11)

  I feel like a man fresh from the bath

  Caught in a filthy beggar’s gaze—*

  Pure among the polluted,

  Awake among sleepers,

  At liberty with slaves.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [showing that she feels an evil omen]. Ah, why does my right eyelid tremble so?*

  GAUTAMĪ My child—may every evil be averted, and your husba
nd’s family gods grant you happiness!

  [She turns around

  COURT PRIEST [pointing out the KING]. There you are, ascetics. The guardian of the sacred and social orders has left the seat of justice and is already awaiting you. Look!

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. It’s commendable, of course, but should we be impressed, great priest?

  Trees stoop down (12)

  with ripening fruit,

  Clouds scud the ground

  filled with rain,

  Great men are civil

  with their wealth—

  It’s their nature

  and they go with the grain.

  DOORKEEPER. The sages look calm, Majesty. I’m sure they come on peaceful business.

  KING [seeing ŚAKUNTALĀ]. And the lady?

  Who is she, this veiled creature, (13)

  Her beauty almost buried,

  Surrounded by ascetics

  Like a bud by withered leaves?

  DOORKEEPER. Majesty, I too am baffled but curious. Perhaps she merits closer inspection?

  KING. Enough. One shouldn’t stare at another man’s wife.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [with her hand on her bosom, she speaks to herself). Why is my heart fluttering? I know my husband’s love, so I should be calm.

  COURT PRIEST [going forward]. Here are the ascetics. They have been duly honoured, and now, if Your Majesty is pleased to hear it, they bring you a message from their preceptor.

  KING. I am all attention.

  ASCETICS [raising their hands in greeting]. May victory be yours, great king!

  KING. I salute you all!

  ASCETICS. May you fulfil your desires!

  KING. Are you able to practise your austerities freely?

  ASCETICS.

  What could impede the rites (14)

  Of the holy men whom you protect?

  When the sun shines, the dark is checked.

  KING. Indeed, my royal title has some meaning now. Does the world benefit from Father Kaṇva’s health?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. Those who have acquired powers control their own health. He asks about yours, and then says this … *

  KING. … I’m his to command.

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. ‘You and this daughter of mine married in secret. But that doesn’t displease me, and you have my approval.

  ‘We remember you as a man of the utmost honour— (15)

  Śakuntalā is virtue itself.

  Little wonder the creator brought you together,

  A couple so perfectly matched.

  ‘And now that she bears your child, receive her, and perform your duties together as a couple should.’

  GAUTAMĪ. Sir, there’s something I’d like to say—yet perhaps it’s all superfluous:

  She ignored her elders, (16)

  You never asked her kinsmen.

  But you consented to each other …

  So what can I, or anyone, add to that?

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [to herself]. What will my noble husband say now?

  KING. What is being proposed?

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [to herself]. The proposal is perfectly clear.

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. ‘What is being proposed?’ Your Highness is, I suppose, familiar with the ways of the world:

  A married woman with her kinsmen’s family? (17)

  No matter that she’s chaste,

  People still think the worst.

  Cherished or cursed,

  She should live with her husband.*

  KING. You’re saying this lady is already married to me?

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [despondent, to herself]. My heart knew what was coming!

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA.

  Is what you’ve done (18a)

  So repugnant now

  It swallows your duty?

  Or don’t you care?

  KING. You have no reason to insult me.

  ŚĀRNṄGARAVA.

  This is the magic (18b)

  That power works

  On moral scruples.

  KING. Now you go beyond the bounds.

  GAUTAMĪ. Child, put your modesty aside for a moment. Let me lift your veil, and then your husband will know you.

  [She does so

  KING [staring at ŚAKUNTALĀ; to himself].

  They offer me this flawless girl… (19)

  Could I have married her? I no longer know.

  Like a bee mithering at dawn

  Round a jasmine soaked in dew,

  I can neither approach her, nor go.

  [He remains thinking

  DOORKEEPER [to herself]. Ah, duty always comes first for my lord. Who else would hesitate, faced with such a free and beautiful offer?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. So, king, why do you remain silent?

  KING. Ascetics, however hard I try, I don’t remember marrying this lady. So how can I accept her when she’s obviously pregnant, and I have no reason to believe it’s anything to do with me?

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [aside]. So my lord casts doubt on our very marriage. Where are my high hopes now?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. No, don’t accept her.

  Why not insult the sage (20)

  Who pardoned the daughter you seduced—

  The sage who has made you a gift

  Of what you had previously stolen?

  ŚĀRADVATA. Śārṅgarava! That’s enough! Śakuntalā, we’ve said what we had to, and the king has given his answer. Now it’s up to you to convince him.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [aside]. What’s the use in reminding him, when passion can change so monstrously? But I owe it to myself to clear my name. [Aloud] Dear husband—[she breaks off in the middle]—no, my right to address you in that way has been cast into doubt. Puru King, then … It becomes you very well to disown a naive and innocent girl with meagre words, after you used them so richly to deceive me in the hermitage.

  KING [covering his ears]. Enough of this wickedness!

  What are you doing? (21)

  Like a torrent in spate,

  Dissolving its banks,

  Undercutting great trees,

  You pollute yourself and your family’s name

  In your vile attempt to shame

  And drag me down.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. Very well! If you really think you’re in danger of taking another man’s wife, let me show you something that will refresh your memory.

  KING. An excellent idea.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [feeling her ring-finger]. No! It can’t be! The ring has gone from my finger!

  [She looks at GAUTAMĪ, in despair

  GAUTAMĪ It must have fallen off when you were bathing at Indra’s crossing in the Goddess’s holy waters.

  KING [smiling]. What a nice example of women’s proverbial quick-thinking.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. Fate may have taken a hand here, but I have something else to tell you.

  KING. Now it’s a matter of hearing something.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. One day in the jasmine bower, you had in your hand a lotus-leaf cup, full of water …

  KING. I’m listening.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. Just then, the little fawn—my adopted son, ‘Almond Eyes’—appeared, and, feeling kind, you tried to tempt him to sip from the cup. He, being shy of strangers, would not take the water from your hand. But later, when I held the cup, he was happy enough to drink. At which, you laughed, and said: ‘Everyone trusts their own scent: you are both forest creatures.’

  KING. These are the kinds of lying, honeyed words that women use, for their own ends, to lure over-excited youths.

  GAUTAMĪ. Great king, you shouldn’t speak like that. This girl was brought up in a hermitage; she hasn’t the slightest inkling of deceit.

  KING. Old woman:

  Cuckoos get other birds to raise their chicks (22)

  And teach them flight. Females of every kind

  Have natural cunning to perform these tricks,

  But women, in addition, have devious minds.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ [angrily]. Wicked man! You see everything through the distorted lens of your own heart. Who else would stoop so low? You cover yourself in virtue like a
derelict well, overgrown with weeds.

  KING [to himself]. Her anger seems real. It almost makes me doubt myself.

  When I wouldn’t admit to a private affair, (23)

  Because I couldn’t—and cannot—remember,

  Her incandescent eyes and knitted brows

  Seemed to break Love’s bow,

  And reduce it to embers.

  [Aloud] Lady, Duṣyanta’s conduct is open for all to see—and no one sees this in it.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. Yes, I deserve it—I deserve to be called a self-willed wanton, since I put my trust in the Puru dynasty, and gave myself to a man with honey in his mouth but poison in his heart!

  [She covers her face with the hem of her veil and weeps

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. These impulsive actions always end in pain:

  It was all too easy (24)

  To contract a secret union

  And not divine your lover’s true intention,

  Which, as so often, was betrayal.

  KING. Why, Sir, when you have nothing but this lady’s word to go on, do you continue to make these gross insinuations?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA [disdainfully]. I’d forgotten—yours is a world turned upside-down:

  Those raised to innocence are full of artifice, (25)

  But you can trust the liars,—they’ve put in the practice.

  KING. Suppose we allow what you say, Sir Truthteller. Nevertheless, what do you suppose I have to gain by deceiving this woman?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA. Ruin!

  KING. Ruin? It’s difficult to believe that the Pauravas want to engineer their own downfall.

  ŚĀRADVATA. Śrṅgarava, you’re wasting your breath. We’ve carried out our teacher’s instructions, and now it’s time to go. [To the KING]

  Here’s your wife—take her. (26)

  Or forsake her, as you see fit—

  A husband’s power is absolute.

  Gautamī, lead the way.

  ŚAKUNTALĀ. What? Have I been deceived by this fraud, for you to abandon me too?

  [She tries to follow them

  GAUTAMĪ [stopping]. Śārṅgarava my son, Śakuntalā is following us, crying pitifully. What will my child do, now that her husband has rejected her so cruelly?

  ŚĀRṄGARAVA [turning back angrily]. Presumptuous girl! What do you want? Independence?