Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works - Part 9
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Part 9

_Door-keeper_. Victory, O King. There are two hermit-youths at the gate.

_King_. Bid them enter at once.

_Door-keeper_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He goes out, then returns with the youths_.) Follow me.

_First youth_ (_looking at the king_). A majestic presence, yet it inspires confidence. Nor is this wonderful in a king who is half a saint. For to him

The splendid palace serves as hermitage; His royal government, courageous, sage, Adds daily to his merit; it is given To him to win applause from choirs of heaven Whose anthems to his glory rise and swell, Proclaiming him a king, and saint as well.

_Second youth_. My friend, is this Dushyanta, friend of Indra?

_First youth_. It is.

_Second youth_.

Nor is it wonderful that one whose arm Might bolt a city gate, should keep from harm The whole broad earth dark-belted by the sea; For when the G.o.ds in heaven with demons fight, Dushyanta's bow and Indra's weapon bright Are their reliance for the victory.

_The two youths_ (_approaching_). Victory, O King!

_King_ (_rising_). I salute you.

_The two youths_. All hail! (_They offer fruit_.)

_King_ (_receiving it and bowing low_). May I know the reason of your coming?

_The two youths_. The hermits have learned that you are here, and they request----

_King_. They command rather.

_The two youths_. The powers of evil disturb our pious life in the absence of the hermit-father. We therefore ask that you will remain a few nights with your charioteer to protect the hermitage.

_King_. I shall be most happy to do so.

_Clown_ (_to the king_). You rather seem to like being collared this way.

_King_. Raivataka, tell my charioteer to drive up, and to bring the bow and arrows.

_Raivataka_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_)

_The two youths_.

Thou art a worthy scion of The kings who ruled our nation And found, defending those in need, Their truest consecration.

_King_. Pray go before. And I will follow straightway.

_The two youths_. Victory, O King! (_Exeunt_.)

_King_. Madhavya, have you no curiosity to see Shakuntala?

_Clown_. I _did_ have an unending curiosity, but this talk about the powers of evil has put an end to it.

_King_. Do not fear. You will be with me.

_Clown_. I'll stick close to your chariot-wheel. (_Enter the door-keeper_.)

_Door-keeper_. Your Majesty, the chariot is ready, and awaits your departure to victory. But one Karabhaka has come from the city, a messenger from the queen-mother.

_King_ (_respectfully_). Sent by my mother?

_Door-keeper_. Yes.

_King_. Let him enter.

_Door-keeper_ (_goes out and returns with_ KARABHAKA). Karabhaka, here is his Majesty. You may draw near.

_Karabhaka_ (_approaching and bowing low_). Victory to your Majesty.

The queen-mother sends her commands----

_King_. What are her commands?

_Karabhaka_. She plans to end a fasting ceremony on the fourth day from to-day. And on that occasion her dear son must not fail to wait upon her.

_King_. On the one side is my duty to the hermits, on the other my mother's command. Neither may be disregarded. What is to be done?

_Clown_ (_laughing_). Stay half-way between, like Trishanku.

_King_. In truth, I am perplexed.

Two inconsistent duties sever My mind with cruel shock, As when the current of a river Is split upon a rock.

(_He reflects_.) My friend, the queen-mother has always felt toward you as toward a son. Do you return, tell her what duty keeps me here, and yourself perform the offices of a son.

_Clown_. You don't think I am afraid of the devils?

_King_ (_smiling_). O mighty Brahman, who could suspect it?

_Clown_. But I want to travel like a prince.

_King_. I will send all the soldiers with you, for the pious grove must not be disturbed. _Clown_ (_strutting_). Aha! Look at the heir-apparent!

_King_ (_to himself_). The fellow is a chatterbox. He might betray my longing to the ladies of the palace. Good, then! (_He takes the clown by the hand. Aloud_.) Friend Madhavya, my reverence for the hermits draws me to the hermitage. Do not think that I am really in love with the hermit-girl. Just think:

A king, and a girl of the calm hermit-grove, Bred with the fawns, and a stranger to love!

Then do not imagine a serious quest; The light words I uttered were spoken in jest.

_Clown_. Oh, I understand that well enough. (_Exeunt ambo_.)