ACT VI
SEPARATION FROM SHAKUNTALA
SCENE
I.--In
the street before the Palace.
(Enter
the chief of police, two policemen, and a man with his
hands bound behind his back.)
The
two policemen (striking
the man). Now,
pickpocket, tell us where you found this ring. It is the
king's ring, with letters engraved on it, and it has a
magnificent great gem.
Fisherman
(showing
fright). Be
merciful, kind gentlemen. I am not guilty of such a crime.
First
policeman. No, I
suppose the king thought you were a pious Brahman, and made
you a present of it.
Fisherman.
Listen, please. I am a fisherman, and I live on the Ganges,
at the spot where Indra came down.
Second
policeman. You
thief, we didn't ask for your address or your social
position.
Chief.
Let him tell a straight story, Suchaka. Don't interrupt.
The
two policemen. Yes,
chief. Talk, man, talk.
Fisherman.
I support my family with things you catch fish with--nets,
you know, and hooks, and things.
Chief
(laughing).
You have a sweet trade.
Fisherman.
Don't say that, master.
You
can't give up a lowdown trade
That your ancestors began;
A butcher butchers things, and yet
He's the tenderest-hearted man.
Chief.
Go on. Go on.
Fisherman.
Well, one day I was cutting up a carp. In its maw I see
this ring with the magnificent great gem. And then I was
just trying to sell it here when you kind gentlemen grabbed
me. That is the only way I got it. Now kill me, or find
fault with me.
Chief
(smelling
the ring). There
is no doubt about it,
Januka.
It has been in a fish's maw. It has the real perfume of raw
meat. Now we have to find out how he got it. We must go to
the palace.
The
two policemen (to
the fisherman). Move
on, you cutpurse, move on. (They
walk about.)
Chief.
Suchaka, wait here at the big gate until I come out of the
palace. And don't get careless.
The
two policemen. Go in,
chief. I hope the king will be nice to you.
Chief.
Good-bye. (Exit.)
Suchaka.
Januka, the chief is taking his time.
Januka.
You can't just drop in on a king.
Suchaka.
Januka, my fingers are itching (indicating
the fisherman) to
kill this cutpurse.
Fisherman.
Don't kill a man without any reason, master.
Januka
(looking
ahead). There
is the chief, with a written order from the king.
(To
the fisherman.) Now
you will see your family, or else you will feed the crows
and jackals. (Enter
the chief.)
Chief.
Quick! Quick! (He
breaks off.)
Fisherman.
Oh, oh! I'm a dead man. (He
shows dejection.)
Chief.
Release him, you. Release the fishnet fellow. It is all
right, his getting the ring. Our king told me so himself.
Suchaka.
All right, chief. He is a dead man come back to life.
(He
releases the fisherman.)
Fisherman
(bowing
low to the chief).
Master, I owe you my life. (He
falls at his feet.)
Chief.
Get up, get up! Here is a reward that the king was kind
enough to give you. It is worth as much as the ring. Take
it. (He
hands the fisherman a bracelet.)
Fisherman
(joyfully
taking it). Much
obliged.
Januka.
He is much obliged to the king. Just as if he had been
taken from the stake and put on an elephant's back.
Suchaka.
Chief, the reward shows that the king thought a lot of the
ring. The gem must be worth something.
Chief.
No, it wasn't the fine gem that pleased the king. It was
this way.
The
two policemen. Well?
Chief.
I think, when the king saw it, he remembered
somebody he loves. You know how dignified he is usually.
But as soon as he saw it, he broke down for a moment.
Suchaka.
You have done the king a good turn, chief.
Januka.
All for the sake of this fish-killer, it seems to me.
(He
looks enviously at the fisherman.)
Fisherman.
Take half of it, masters, to pay for something to drink.
Januka.
Fisherman, you are the biggest and best friend I've got.
The first thing we want, is all the brandy we can hold.
Let's go where they keep it. (Exeunt
omnes.)
SCENE II.--In
the Palace Gardens.
(Enter
MISHRAKESHI,
flying
through the air.)
Mishrakeshi.
I have taken my turn in waiting upon the nymphs. And now I
will see what this good king is doing. Shakuntala is like a
second self to me, because she is the daughter of Menaka.
And it was she who asked me to do this.
(She
looks about.) It is
the day of the spring festival. But I see no preparations
for a celebration at court. I might learn the reason by my
power of divination. But I must do as my friend asked me.
Good! I will make myself invisible and stand near these
girls who take care of the garden. I shall find out that
way. (She
descends to earth. Enter a maid, gazing at a mango branch,
and behind her, a second.)
First
maid.
First
mango-twig, so pink, so green,
First living breath of spring,
You are sacrificed as soon as seen,
A festival offering.
Second
maid. What
are you chirping about to yourself, little cuckoo?
First
maid. Why,
little bee, you know that the cuckoo goes crazy with
delight when she sees the mango-blossom.
Second
maid (joyfully).
Oh, has the spring really come?
First
maid. Yes,
little bee. And this is the time when you too buzz about in
crazy joy.
Second
maid. Hold
me, dear, while I stand on tiptoe and offer this blossom to
Love, the divine.
First
maid. If I
do, you must give me half the reward of the offering.
Second
maid. That
goes without saying, dear. We two are one.
(She
leans on her friend and takes the
mango-blossom.) Oh,
see! The mango-blossom hasn't opened, but it has broken the
sheath, so it is fragrant. (She
brings her hands together.) I
worship mighty Love,
O
mango-twig I give to Love
As arrow for his bow,
Most sovereign of his arrows five,
Strike maiden-targets low.
(She
throws the twig. Enter the
chamberlain.)
Chamberlain
(angrily).
Stop, silly girl. The king has strictly forbidden the
spring festival. Do you dare pluck the mango-blossoms?
The
two maids (frightened).
Forgive us, sir. We did not know.
Chamberlain.
What! You have not heard the king's command, which is
obeyed even by the trees of spring and the creatures that
dwell in them. See!
The
mango branches are in bloom,
Yet pollen does not form;
The cuckoo's song sticks in his throat,
Although the days are warm;
The amaranth-bud is formed, and yet
Its
power of growth is gone;
The
love-god timidly puts by
The
arrow he has drawn.
Mishrakeshi.
There is no doubt of it. This good king has wonderful
power.
First
maid. A few
days ago, sir, we were sent to his Majesty by his
brother-in-law Mitravasu to decorate the garden. That is
why we have heard nothing of this affair.
Chamberlain.
You must not do so again.
The
two maids. But we
are curious. If we girls may know about it, pray tell us,
sir. Why did his Majesty forbid the spring festival?
Mishrakeshi.
Kings are fond of celebrations. There must be some good
reason.
Chamberlain
(to
himself). It is
in everybody's mouth. Why should I not tell it?
(Aloud.)
Have you heard the gossip concerning Shakuntala's
rejection?
The
two maids. Yes,
sir. The king's brother-in-law told us, up to the point
where the ring was recovered.
Chamberlain.
There is little more to tell. When his Majesty saw the
ring, he remembered that he had indeed contracted a secret
marriage with Shakuntala, and had rejected her under a
delusion. And then he fell a prey to remorse.
He hates
the things he loved; he intermits
The daily audience, nor in judgment sits;
Spends sleepless nights in tossing on his bed;
At times, when he by courtesy is led
To address a lady, speaks another name,
Then stands for minutes, sunk in helpless shame.
Mishrakeshi.
I am glad to hear it.
Chamberlain.
His Majesty's sorrow has forbidden the festival.
The
two maids. It is
only right.
A
voice behind the scenes. Follow
me.
Chamberlain
(listening).
Ah, his Majesty approaches. Go, and attend to your duties.
(Exeunt
the two maids. Enter the king, wearing a dress indicative
of remorse; the clown, and the
portress.)
Chamberlain
(observing
the king). A
beautiful figure charms in whatever state. Thus, his
Majesty is pleasing even in his sorrow. For
All
ornament is laid aside; he wears
One golden bracelet on his wasted arm;
His lip is scorched by sighs; and sleepless cares
Redden his eyes. Yet all can work no harm
On that magnificent beauty, wasting, but
Gaining in brilliance, like a diamond cut.
Mishrakeshi
(observing
the king). No
wonder Shakuntala pines for him, even though he dishonoured
her by his rejection of her.
King
(walks
about slowly, sunk in thought).
Alas! My
smitten heart, that once lay sleeping,
Heard in its dreams my fawn-eyed love's
laments,
And wakened now, awakens but to weeping,
To bitter grief, and tears of penitence.
Mishrakeshi.
That is the poor girl's fate.
Clown
(to
himself). He
has got his Shakuntala-sickness again. I wish I knew how to
cure him.
Chamberlain
(advancing).
Victory to your Majesty. I have examined the garden. Your
Majesty may visit its retreats.
King.
Vetravati, tell the minister Pishuna in my name that a
sleepless night prevents me from mounting the throne of
judgment. He is to investigate the citizens' business and
send me a memorandum.
Portress.
Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.)
King.
And you, Parvatayana, return to your post of duty.
Chamberlain.
Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.)
Clown.
You have got rid of the vermin. Now amuse yourself in this
garden. It is delightful with the passing of the cold
weather.
King
(sighing).
My friend, the proverb makes no mistake. Misfortune finds
the weak spot. See!
No
sooner did the darkness lift
That clouded memory's power,
Than the god of love prepared his bow
And shot the mango-flower.
No sooner did the ring recall
My
banished maiden dear,
No
sooner do I vainly weep
For
her, than spring is here.
Clown.
Wait a minute, man. I will destroy Love's arrow with my
stick. (He
raises his stick and strikes at the mango
branch.)
King
(smiling).
Enough! I see your pious power. My friend, where shall I
sit now to comfort my eyes with the vines? They remind me
somehow of her.
Clown.
Well, you told one of the maids, the clever painter,
that you would spend this hour in the bower of
spring-creepers. And you asked her to bring you there the
picture of the lady Shakuntala which you painted on a
tablet.
King.
It is my only consolation. Lead the way to the bower of
spring-creepers.
Clown.
Follow me. (They
walk about.
MISHRAKESHI follows.)
Here is the bower of spring-creepers, with its jewelled
benches. Its loneliness seems to bid you a silent welcome.
Let us go in and sit down. (They do so.)
Mishrakeshi.
I will hide among the vines and see the dear girl's
picture. Then I shall be able to tell her how deep her
husband's love is. (She
hides.)
King
(sighing).
I remember it all now, my friend. I told you how I first
met Shakuntala. It is true, you were not with me when I
rejected her. But I had told you of her at the first. Had
you forgotten, as I did?
Mishrakeshi.
This shows that a king should not be separated a single
moment from some intimate friend.
Clown.
No, I didn't forget. But when you had told the whole story,
you said it was a joke and there was nothing in it. And I
was fool enough to believe you. No, this is the work of
fate.
Mishrakeshi.
It must be.
King
(after
meditating a moment). Help
me, my friend.
Clown.
But, man, this isn't right at all. A good man never lets
grief get the upper hand. The mountains are calm even in a
tempest.
King.
My friend, I am quite forlorn. I keep thinking of her
pitiful state when I rejected her. Thus:
When I
denied her, then she tried
To join her people. "Stay," one cried,
Her father's representative.
She stopped, she turned, she could but give
A tear-dimmed glance to heartless me--
That arrow burns me poisonously.
Mishrakeshi.
How his fault distresses him!
Clown.
Well, I don't doubt it was some heavenly being that carried
her away.
King.
Who else would dare to touch a faithful wife? Her friends
told me that Menaka was her mother. My heart
p.
70
persuades me that it was she, or companions of hers, who
carried Shakuntala away.
Mishrakeshi.
His madness was wonderful, not his awakening reason.
Clown.
But in that case, you ought to take heart. You will meet
her again.
King.
How so?
Clown.
Why, a mother or a father cannot long bear to see a
daughter separated from her husband.
King.
My friend,
And was
it phantom, madness, dream,
Or fatal retribution stern?
My hopes fell down a precipice
And never, never will return.
Clown.
Don't talk that way. Why, the ring shows that incredible
meetings do happen.
King
(looking
at the ring). This
ring deserves pity. It has fallen from a heaven hard to
earn.
Your
virtue, ring, like mine,
Is proved to be but small;
Her pink-nailed finger sweet
You clasped. How could you fall?
Mishrakeshi.
If it were worn on any other hand, it would deserve pity.
My dear girl, you are far away. I am the only one to hear
these delightful words.
Clown.
Tell me how you put the ring on her finger.
Mishrakeshi.
He speaks as if prompted by my curiosity.
King.
Listen, my friend. When I left the pious grove for the
city, my darling wept and said: "But how long will you
remember us, dear?"
Clown.
And then you said------
King.
Then I put this engraved ring on her finger, and said to
her-------
Clown.
Well, what?
King.
Count
every day one letter of my name;
Before you reach the end, dear,
Will come to lead you to my palace halls
A guide whom I shall send, dear.
Then, through my madness, it fell out cruelly.
Mishrakeshi.
It was too charming an agreement to be frustrated by fate.
Clown.
But how did it get into a carp's mouth, as if it had been a
fish-hook?
King.
While she was worshipping the Ganges at Shachitirtha, it
fell.
Clown.
I see.
Mishrakeshi.
That is why the virtuous king doubted his marriage with
poor Shakuntala. Yet such love does not ask for a token.
How could it have been?
King.
Well, I can only reproach this ring.
Clown
(smiling).
And I will reproach this stick of mine. Why are you crooked
when I am straight?
King
(not
hearing him).
How
could you fail to linger
On her soft, tapering finger,
And in the water fall?
And yet
Things
lifeless know not beauty;
But I--I scorned my duty,
The sweetest task of all.
Mishrakeshi.
He has given the answer which I had ready.
Clown.
But that is no reason why I should starve to death.
King
(not
heeding). O my
darling, my heart burns with repentance because I abandoned
you without reason. Take pity on me. Let me see you again.
(Enter
a maid with a tablet.)
Maid.
Your Majesty, here is the picture of our lady.
(She
produces the tablet.)
King
(gazing
at it). It is
a beautiful picture. See!
A
graceful arch of brows above great eyes;
Lips bathed in darting, smiling light that flies
Reflected from white teeth; a mouth as red
As red karkandhu-fruit; love's brightness shed
O’er all her face in bursts of liquid charm--
The picture speaks, with living beauty warm.
Clown
(looking
at it). The
sketch is full of sweet meaning. My eyes seem to stumble
over its uneven surface. What
more can I say? I expect to see it come to life, and I feel
like speaking to it.
Mishrakeshi.
The king is a clever painter. I seem to see the dear girl
before me.
King.
My friend,
What in
the picture is not fair,
Is badly done;
Yet something of her beauty there,
I feel, is won.
Mishrakeshi.
This is natural, when love is increased by remorse.
King
(sighing).
I
treated her with scorn and loathing ever;
Now o’er her pictured charms my heart
will burst:
A traveller I, who scorned the mighty river,
And seeks in the mirage to quench his thirst.
Clown.
There are three figures in the picture, and they are all
beautiful. Which one is the lady Shakuntala?
Mishrakeshi.
The poor fellow never saw her beauty. His eyes are useless,
for she never came before them.
King.
Which one do you think?
Clown
(observing
closely). I
think it is this one, leaning against the creeper which she
has just sprinkled. Her face is hot and the flowers are
dropping from her hair; for the ribbon is loosened. Her
arms droop like weary branches; she has loosened her
girdle, and she seems a little fatigued. This, I think, is
the lady Shakuntala, the others are her friends.
King.
You are good at guessing. Besides, here are proofs of my
love.
See
where discolorations faint
Of loving handling tell;
And here the swelling of the paint
Shows where my sad tears fell.
Chaturika, I have not finished the background. Go, get the
brushes.
Maid.
Please hold the picture, Madhavya, while I am gone.
King.
I will hold it. (He
does so. Exit maid.)
Clown.
What are you going to add?
Mishrakeshi.
Surely, every spot that the dear girl loved.
King.
Listen, my friend.
The
stream of Malini, and on its sands
The swan-pairs resting; holy foot-hill lands
Of great Himalaya's sacred ranges, where
The yaks are seen; and under trees that bear
Bark hermit-dresses on their branches high,
A doe that on the buck's horn rubs her eye.
Clown
(aside).
To hear him talk, I should think he was going to fill up
the picture with heavy-bearded hermits.
King.
And another ornament that Shakuntala loved I have forgotten
to paint.
Clown.
What?
Mishrakeshi.
Something natural for a girl living in the forest.
King.
The
siris-blossom, fastened o’er her ear,
Whose stamens brush her cheek;
The lotus-chain like autumn moonlight soft
Upon her bosom meek.
Clown.
But why does she cover her face with fingers lovely as the
pink water-lily? She seems frightened. (He
looks more closely.) I
see. Here is a bold, bad bee. He steals honey, and so he
flies to her lotus-face.
King.
Drive him away.
Clown.
It is your affair to punish evil-doers.
King.
True. O welcome guest of the flowering vine, why do you
waste your time in buzzing here?
Your
faithful, loving queen,
Perched on a flower, athirst,
Is waiting for you still,
Nor tastes the honey first.
Mishrakeshi.
A gentlemanly way to drive him off!
Clown.
This kind are obstinate, even when you warn them.
King
(angrily).
Will you not obey my command? Then listen:
’Tis
sweet as virgin blossoms on a tree,
The lip I kissed in love-feasts tenderly;
Sting that dear lip, O bee, with cruel power,
And you shall be imprisoned in a flower.
Clown.
Well, he doesn't seem afraid of your dreadful punishment.
(Laughing.
To himself.) The
man is crazy, and I am just as bad, from associating with
him.
King.
Will he not go, though I warn him?
Mishrakeshi.
Love works a curious change even in a brave man.
Clown
(aloud).
It is only a picture, man.
King.
A picture?
Mishrakeshi.
I too understand it now. But to him, thoughts are real
experiences.
King.
You have done an ill-natured thing.
When I
was happy in the sight,
And when my heart was warm,
You brought sad memories back, and made
My love a painted form. (He
sheds a tear.)
Mishrakeshi.
Fate plays strangely with him.
King.
My friend, how can I endure a grief that has no respite?
I cannot
sleep at night
And meet her dreaming;
I cannot see the sketch
While tears are streaming.
Mishrakeshi.
My friend, you have indeed atoned--and in her friend's
presence--for the pain you caused by rejecting dear
Shakuntala. (Enter
the maid CHATURIKA.)
Maid.
Your Majesty, I was coming back with the box of
paint-brushes
King.
Well?
Maid.
I met Queen Vasumati with the maid Pingalika. And the queen
snatched the box from me, saying: "I will take it to the
king myself."
Clown.
How did you escape?
Maid.
The queen's dress caught on a vine. And while her maid was
setting her free, I excused myself in a hurry.
A
voice behind the scenes. Follow
me, your Majesty.
Clown
(listening).
Man, the she-tiger of the palace is making a spring on her
prey. She means to make one mouthful of the maid.
King.
My friend, the queen has come because she feels touched in
her honour. You had better take care of this picture.
Clown.
"And yourself," you might add. (He
takes the picture and rises.) If
you get out of the trap alive, call for me at the Cloud
Balcony. And I will hide the thing there so that nothing
but a pigeon could find it. (Exit
on the run.)
Mishrakeshi.
Though his heart is given to another, he is courteous to
his early flame. He is a constant friend.
(Enter
the portress with a document.)
Portress.
Victory to your Majesty.
King.
Vetravati, did you not meet Queen Vasumati?
Portress.
Yes, your Majesty. But she turned back when she saw that I
carried a document.
King.
The queen knows times and seasons. She will not interrupt
business.
Portress.
Your Majesty, the minister sends word that in the press of
various business he has attended to only one citizen's
suit. This he has reduced to writing for your Majesty's
perusal.
King.
Give me the document. (The
portress does so.)
King
(reads).
"Be it known to his Majesty. A seafaring merchant named
Dhanavriddhi has been lost in a shipwreck. He is childless,
and his property, amounting to several millions, reverts to
the crown. Will his Majesty take action?"
(Sadly.)
It is dreadful to be childless. Vetravati, he had great
riches. There must be several wives. Let inquiry be made.
There may be a wife who is with child.
Portress.
We have this moment heard that a merchant's daughter of
Saketa is his wife. And she is soon to become a mother.
King.
The child shall receive the inheritance. Go, inform the
minister.
Portress.
Yes, your Majesty. (She
starts to go.)
King.
Wait a moment.
Portress
(turning
back). Yes,
your Majesty.
King.
After all, what does it matter whether he have issue or
not?
Let King
Dushyanta be proclaimed
To every sad soul kin
That mourns a kinsman loved and lost,
Yet did not plunge in sin.
Portress.
The proclamation shall be made. (She
goes out and soon returns.) Your
Majesty, the royal proclamation was welcomed by the
populace as is a timely shower.
King
(sighing
deeply). Thus,
when issue fails, wealth passes, on the death of the head
of the family, to a stranger. When I die, it will be so
with the glory of Puru's line.
Portress.
Heaven avert the omen!
King.
Alas! I despised the happiness that offered itself to me.
Mishrakeshi.
Without doubt, he has dear Shakuntala in mind when he thus
reproaches himself.
King.
Could I
forsake the virtuous wife
Who held my best, my future life
And cherished it for glorious birth,
As does the seed-receiving earth?
Mishrakeshi.
She will not long be forsaken.
Maid
(to
the portress).
Mistress, the minister's report has doubled our lord's
remorse. Go to the Cloud Balcony and bring Madhavya to
dispel his grief.
Portress.
A good suggestion. (Exit.)
King.
Alas! The ancestors of Dushyanta are in a doubtful case.
For I am
childless, and they do not know,
When I am gone, what child of theirs will bring
The scriptural oblation; and their tears
Already mingle with my offering.
Mishrakeshi.
He is screened from the light, and is in darkness.
Maid.
Do not give way to grief, your Majesty. You are in the
prime of your years, and the birth of a son to one of your
other wives will make you blameless-before your ancestors.
(To
herself.) He
does not heed me. The proper medicine is needed for any
disease.
King
(betraying
his sorrow).
Surely,
The
royal line that flowed
A river pure and grand,
Dies in the childless king,
Like streams in desert sand.
(He
swoons.)
Maid
(in
distress). Oh,
sir, come to yourself.
Mishrakeshi.
Shall I make him happy now? No, I heard the mother of the
gods consoling Shakuntala. She said that the gods,
impatient for the sacrifice, would soon cause him to
welcome his true wife. I must delay no longer. I will
comfort dear Shakuntala with my tidings. (Exit through the
air.)
A
voice behind the scenes. Help,
help!
King
(comes
to himself and listens). It
sounds as if Madhavya were in distress.
Maid.
Your Majesty, I hope that Pingalika and the other maids did
not catch poor Madhavya with the picture in his hands.
King.
Go, Chaturika. Reprove the queen in my name for not
controlling her servants.
Maid.
Yes, your Majesty. (Exit.)
The
voice. Help,
help!
King.
The Brahman's voice seems really changed by fear. Who waits
without? (Enter
the chamberlain.)
Chamberlain.
Your Majesty commands?
King.
See why poor Madhavya is screaming so.
Chamberlain.
I will see. (He
goes out, and returns trembling.)
King.
Parvatayana, I hope it is nothing very dreadful.
Chamberlain.
I hope not.
King.
Then why do you tremble so? For
Why
should the trembling, born
Of age, increasing, seize
Your limbs and bid them shake
Like fig-leaves in the breeze?
Chamberlain.
Save your friend, O King!
King.
From what?
Chamberlain.
From great danger.
King.
Speak plainly, man.
Chamberlain.
On the Cloud Balcony, open to the four winds of
heaven------
King.
What has happened there?
Chamberlain.
While he
was resting on its height,
Which palace peacocks in their flight
Can hardly reach, he seemed to be
Snatched up--by what, we could not see.
King
(rising
quickly). My
very palace is invaded by evil creatures. To be a king, is
to be a disappointed man.
The
moral stumblings of mine own,
The daily slips, are scarcely known;
Who then that rules a kingdom, can
Guide every deed of every man?
The
voice. Hurry,
hurry!
King
(hears
the voice and quickens his steps). Have
no fear, my friend.
The
voice. Have
no fear! When something has got me by the back of the neck,
and is trying to break my bones like a piece of sugar-cane!
King
(looks
about). A
bow! a bow! (Enter
a Greek woman with a bow.)
Greek
woman. A bow
and arrows, your Majesty. And here are the finger-guards.
(The
king takes the bow and arrows.)
Another
voice behind the scenes.
Writhe,
while I drink the red blood flowing clear
And kill you, as a tiger kills a deer;
Let King Dushyanta grasp his bow; but how
Can all his kingly valour save you now?
King
(angrily).
He scorns me, too! In one moment, miserable demon, you
shall die. (Stringing
his bow.) Where
is the stairway, Parvatayana?
Chamberlain.
Here, your Majesty. (All
make haste.)
King
(looking
about). There
is no one here.
The
Clown's voice. Save
me, save me! I see you, if you can't see me. I am a mouse
in the claws of the cat. I am done for.
King.
You are proud of your invisibility. But shall not my arrow
see you? Stand still. Do not hope to escape by clinging to
my friend.
My
arrow, flying when the bow is bent,
Shall slay the wretch and spare the innocent;
When milk is mixed with water in a cup,
Swans leave the water, and the milk drink up.
(He
takes aim. Enter MATALI
and
the clown.)
Matali.
O King, as Indra, king of the gods, commands,
Seek
foes among the evil powers alone;
For them your bow should bend;
Not cruel shafts, but glances soft and kind
Should fall upon a friend.
King
(hastily
withdrawing the arrow). It is
Matali. Welcome to the charioteer of heaven's king.
Clown.
Well! He came within an inch of butchering me. And you
welcome him.
Matali
(smiling).
Hear, O King, for what purpose Indra sends me to you.
King.
I am all attention.
Matali.
There is a host of demons who call themselves
Invincible--the brood of Kalanemi.
King.
So Narada has told me.
Matali.
Heaven's
king is powerless; you shall smite
His foes in battle soon;
Darkness that overcomes the day,
Is scattered by the moon.
Take your bow at once, enter my heavenly chariot, and set
forth for victory.
King.
I am grateful for the honour which Indra shows me. But why
did you act thus toward Madhavya?
Matali.
I will tell you. I saw that you were overpowered by some
inner sorrow, and acted thus to rouse you. For
The
spurnèd snake will swell his hood;
Fire blazes when ’tis stirred;
Brave men are roused to fighting mood
By some insulting word.
King.
Friend Madhavya, I must obey the bidding of heaven's king.
Go, acquaint the minister Pishuna with the matter, and add
these words of mine:
Your
wisdom only shall control
The kingdom for a time;
My bow is strung; a distant goal
Calls me, and tasks sublime.
Clown.
Very well. (Exit.)
Matali.
Enter the chariot. (The
king does so. Exeunt omnes.)