SaRNGARAVA.--No, indeed. Wise men are conversant with all subjects.

KANWA.--Listen, then, my daughter. When thou reachest thy husband's palace, and art admitted into his family, Honor thy betters; ever be respectful To those above thee; and, should others share Thy husband's love, ne'er yield thyself a prey To jealousy; but ever be a friend, A loving friend, to those who rival thee In his affections. Should thy wedded lord Treat thee with harshness, thou must never be Harsh in return, but patient and submissive.

Be to thy menials courteous, and to all Placed under thee, considerate and kind: Be never self-indulgent, but avoid Excess in pleasure; and, when fortune smiles, Be not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's house Wilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse.

What thinks Gautami of this advice?

GAUTAMi.--An excellent compendium, truly, of every wife's duties! Lay it well to heart, my daughter.

KANWA.--Come, my beloved child, one parting embrace for me and for thy companions, and then we leave thee.

SAKOONTALa.--My father, must Priyamvada and Anasuya really return with you? They are very dear to me.

KANWA.--Yes, my child; they, too, in good time, will be given in marriage to suitable husbands. It would not be proper for them to accompany thee to such a public place. But Gautami shall be thy companion.

SAKOONTALa [_embracing him_].--Removed from thy bosom, my beloved father, like a young tendril of the sandal-tree torn from its home in the western mountains,[40] how shall I be able to support life in a foreign soil?

KANWA.--Daughter, thy fears are groundless:-- Soon shall thy lord prefer thee to the rank Of his own consort; and unnumbered cares Befitting his imperial dignity Shall constantly engross thee. Then the bliss Of bearing him a son--a n.o.ble boy, Bright as the day-star--shall transport thy soul With new delights, and little shalt thou reck Of the light sorrow that afflicts thee now At parting from thy father and thy friends.

[_Sakoontala throws herself at her foster-father's feet_.

KANWA.--Blessings on thee, my child! May all my hopes of thee be realized!

SAKOONTALa [_approaching her friends_].--Come, my two loved companions, embrace me--both of you together.

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa [_embracing her_].--Dear Sakoontala, remember, if the King should by any chance be slow in recognizing you, you have only to show him this ring, on which his own name is engraved.

SAKOONTALa.--The bare thought of it puts me in a tremor.

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa.--There is no real cause for fear, dearest.

Excessive affection is too apt to suspect evil where none exists.

SaRNGARAVA.--Come, lady, we must hasten on. The sun is rising in the heavens.

SAKOONTALa [_looking towards the hermitage_].--Dear father, when shall I ever see this hallowed grove again?

KANWA.--I will tell thee; listen-- When thou hast pa.s.sed a long and blissful life As King Dushyanta's queen, and jointly shared With all the earth his ever-watchful care; And hast beheld thine own heroic son, Matchless in arms, united to a spouse In happy wedlock; when his aged sire, Thy faithful husband, hath to him resigned The helm of state; then, weary of the world, Together with Dushyanta thou shalt seek The calm seclusion of thy former home:-- There amid holy scenes to be at peace, Till thy pure spirit gain its last release.

GAUTAMi.--Come, my child, the favorable time for our journey is fast pa.s.sing. Let thy father return. Venerable Sire, be thou the first to move homewards, or these last words will never end.

KANWA.--Daughter, detain me no longer. My religious duties must not be interrupted.

SAKOONTALa [_again embracing her foster-father_].--Beloved father, thy frame is much enfeebled by penitential exercises. Do not, oh! do not, allow thyself to sorrow too much on my account.

KANWA [_sighing_].--How, O my child, shall my bereaved heart Forget its bitterness, when, day by day, Full in my sight shall grow the tender plants Reared by thy care, or sprung from hallowed grain Which thy loved hands have strewn around the door-- A frequent offering to our household G.o.ds?

Go, my daughter, and may thy journey be prosperous.

[_Exit Sakoontala with her escort_.

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa [_gazing after Sakoontala_].--Alas! alas! she is gone, and now the trees hide our darling from our view.

KANWA [_sighing_].--Well, Anasuya, your sister has departed. Moderate your grief, both of you, and follow me. I go back to the hermitage.

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa.--Holy father, the sacred grove will be a desert without Sakoontala. How can we ever return to it?

KANWA.--It is natural enough that your affection should make you view it in this light. [_Walking pensively on_.] As for me, I am quite surprised at myself. Now that I have fairly dismissed her to her husband's house, my mind is easy: for indeed, A daughter is a loan--a precious jewel Lent to a parent till her husband claim her.

And now that to her rightful lord and master I have delivered her, my burdened soul Is lightened, and I seem to breathe more freely.

[_Exeunt._

[40] The sandal-tree is a large kind of myrtle, with pointed leaves. The wood affords many highly esteemed perfumes and is celebrated for its delicious scent. It is chiefly found on the slopes of the Malay mountains or Western Ghants, on the Malabar coast.

ACT FIFTH

Scene.--A Room in the Palace

_The King Dushyanta and the Jester Mathavya are discovered seated_.

MaTHAVYA [_listening_].--Hark! my dear friend, listen a minute, and you will hear sweet sounds proceeding from the music-room. Someone is singing a charming air. Who can it be? Oh! I know. The queen Hansapadika is practising her notes, that she may greet you with a new song.

KING.--Hush! Let me listen.

A VOICE [_sings behind the scenes_].-- How often hither didst thou rove, Sweet bee, to kiss the mango's cheek; Oh! leave not, then, thy early love, The lily's honeyed lip to seek.

KING.--A most impa.s.sioned strain, truly!

MaTHAVYA.--Do you understand the meaning of the words?

KING [_smiling_].--She means to reprove me, because I once paid her great attention, and have lately deserted her for the queen Vasumati.

Go, my dear fellow, and tell Hansapadika from me that I take her delicate reproof as it is intended.

MaTHAVYA.--Very well. [_Rising from his seat_.] But stay--I don't much relish being sent to bear the brunt of her jealousy. The chances are that she will have me seized by the hair of the head and beaten to a jelly. I would as soon expose myself, after a vow of celibacy, to the seductions of a lovely nymph, as encounter the fury of a jealous woman.

KING.--Go, go; you can disarm her wrath by a civil speech; but give her my message.

MaTHAVYA.--What must be must be, I suppose. [_Exit._

KING [_aside_].--Strange! that song has filled me with a most peculiar sensation. A melancholy feeling has come over me, and I seem to yearn after some long-forgotten object of affection. Singular, indeed! but, Not seldom in our happy hours of ease, When thought is still, the sight of some fair form, Or mournful fall of music breathing low, Will stir strange fancies, thrilling all the soul With a mysterious sadness, and a sense Of vague yet earnest longing. Can it be That the dim memory of events long past, Or friendships formed in other states of being, Flits like a pa.s.sing shadow o'er the spirit?

[_Remains pensive and sad_.

_Enter the Chamberlain_.

CHAMBERLAIN.--Alas! to what an advanced period of life have I attained!

Even this wand betrays the lapse of years; In youthful days 'twas but a useless badge And symbol of my office; now it serves As a support to prop my tottering steps.