When you behold our penitential rites Performed without impediment by Saints Rich only in devotion, then with pride Will you reflect, Such are the holy men Who call me Guardian; such the men for whom To wield the bow I bare my nervous arm, Scarred by the motion of the glancing string.

KING.--Is the Chief of your Society now at home?

HERMIT.--No; he has gone to Soma-tirtha to propitiate Destiny, which threatens his daughter Sakoontala with some calamity; but he has commissioned her in his absence to entertain all guests with hospitality.

KING.--Good! I will pay her a visit. She will make me acquainted with the mighty sage's acts of penance and devotion.

HERMIT.--And we will depart on our errand.

[_Exit with his companions_.

KING.--Charioteer, urge on the horses. We will at least purify our souls by a sight of this hallowed retreat.

CHARIOTEER.--Your Majesty is obeyed.

[_Drives the chariot with great velocity_.

KING [_looking all about him_].--Charioteer, even without being told, I should have known that these were the precincts of a grove consecrated to penitential rites.

CHARIOTEER.--How so?

KING.--Do not you observe?

Beneath the trees, whose hollow trunks afford Secure retreat to many a nestling brood Of parrots, scattered grains of rice lie strewn.

Lo! here and there are seen the polished slabs That serve to bruise the fruit of Ingudi.

The gentle roe-deer, taught to trust in man, Unstartled hear our voices. On the paths Appear the traces of bark-woven vests Borne dripping from the limpid fount of waters.

And mark! Laved are the roots of trees by deep ca.n.a.ls, Whose gla.s.sy waters tremble in the breeze; The sprouting verdure of the leaves is dimmed By dusky wreaths of upward curling smoke From burnt oblations; and on new-mown lawns Around our car graze leisurely the fawns.

CHARIOTEER.--I observe it all.

KING [_advancing a little further_].--The inhabitants of this sacred retreat must not be disturbed. Stay the chariot, that I may alight.

CHARIOTEER.--The reins are held in. Your Majesty may descend.

KING [_alighting_].--Charioteer, groves devoted to penance must be entered in humble attire. Take these ornaments.

[_Delivers his ornaments and bow to the Charioteer_.]

Charioteer, see that the horses are watered, and attend to them until I return from visiting the inhabitants of the hermitage.

CHARIOTEER.--I will. [_Exit_.

KING [_walking and looking about_].--Here is the entrance to the hermitage. I will now go in.

[_Entering he feels a throbbing sensation in his arm_ Serenest peace is in this calm retreat, By pa.s.sion's breath unruffled; what portends My throbbing arm? Why should it whisper here Of happy love? Yet everywhere around us Stand the closed portals of events unknown.

A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--This way, my dear companions; this way.

KING [_listening_].--Hark! I hear voices to the right of yonder grove of trees. I will walk in that direction. [_Walking and looking about_.] Ah!

here are the maidens of the hermitage coming this way to water the shrubs, carrying watering-pots proportioned to their strength. [_Gazing at them_.] How graceful they look!

In palaces such charms are rarely ours; The woodland plants outshine the garden flowers.

I will conceal myself in this shade and watch them.

[_Stands gazing at them_.

_Enter Sakoontala, with her two female companions, employed in the manner described_.

SAKOONTALa.--This way, my dear companions; this way.

ANASuYa.--Dear Sakoontala, one would think that father Kanwa had more affection for the shrubs of the hermitage even than for you, seeing he a.s.signs to you who are yourself as delicate as the fresh-blown jasmine, the task of filling with water the trenches which encircle their roots.

SAKOONTALa.--Dear Anasuya, although I am charged by my good father with this duty, yet I cannot regard it as a task. I really feel a sisterly love for these plants.

[_Continues watering the shrubs_.

KING.--Can this be the daughter of Kanwa? The saintly man, though descended from the great Kasyapa, must be very deficient in judgment to habituate such a maiden to the life of a recluse.

The sage who would this form of artless grace Inure to penance--thoughtlessly attempts To cleave in twain the hard acacia's stem With the soft edge of a blue lotus leaf.

Well! concealed behind this tree, I will watch her without raising her suspicions. [_Conceals himself_.

SAKOONTALa.--Good Anasuya, Priyamvada has drawn this bark-dress too tightly about my chest. I pray thee, loosen it a little.

ANASuYa.--I will. [_Loosens it_.

PRIYAMVADa [_smiling_].--Why do you lay the blame on me? Blame rather your own blooming youthfulness which imparts fulness to your bosom.

KING.--A most just observation!

This youthful form, whose bosom's swelling charms By the bark's knotted tissue are concealed, Like some fair bud close folded in its sheath, Gives not to view the blooming of its beauty.

But what am I saying? In real truth, this bark-dress, though ill-suited to her figure, sets it off like an ornament.

The lotus with the Saivala entwined Is not a whit less brilliant: dusky spots Heighten the l.u.s.tre of the cold-rayed moon: This lovely maiden in her dress of bark Seems all the lovelier. E'en the meanest garb Gives to true beauty fresh attractiveness.

SAKOONTALa [_looking before her_].--Yon Kesara-tree beckons to me with its young shoots, which, as the breeze waves them to and fro, appear like slender fingers. I will go and attend to it. [_Walks towards it_.

PRIYAMVADa.--Dear Sakoontala, prithee, rest in that att.i.tude one moment.

SAKOONTALa.--Why so?

PRIYAMVADa.--The Kesara-tree, whilst your graceful form bends about its stem, appears as if it were wedded to some lovely twining creeper.

SAKOONTALa.--Ah! saucy girl, you are most appropriately named Priyamvada ("Speaker of flattering things").

KING.--What Priyamvada says, though complimentary, is nevertheless true.

Verily, Her ruddy lip vies with the opening bud; Her graceful arms are as the twining stalks; And her whole form is radiant with the glow Of youthful beauty, as the tree with bloom.

ANASuYa.--See, dear Sakoontala, here is the young jasmine, which you named "the Moonlight of the Grove," the self-elected wife of the mango-tree. Have you forgotten it?

SAKOONTALa.--Rather will I forget myself. [_Approaching the plant and looking at it_.] How delightful is the season when the jasmine-creeper and the mango-tree seem thus to unite in mutual embraces! The fresh blossoms of the jasmine resemble the bloom of a young bride, and the newly-formed shoots of the mango appear to make it her natural protector. [_Continues gazing at it_.

PRIYAMVADa [_smiling_].--Do you know, my Anasuya, why Sakoontala gazes so intently at the jasmine?

ANASuYa.--No, indeed, I cannot imagine. I pray thee tell me.

PRIYAMVADa.--She is wishing that as the jasmine is united to a suitable tree, so, in like manner, she may obtain a husband worthy of her.

SAKOONTALa.--Speak for yourself, girl; this is the thought in your own mind. [_Continues watering the flowers_.

KING.--Would that my union with her were permissible! and yet I hardly dare hope that the maiden is sprung from a caste different from that of the Head of the hermitage. But away with doubt:-- That she is free to wed a warrior-king My heart attests. For, in conflicting doubts, The secret promptings of the good man's soul Are an unerring index of the truth.