Kanva

Shakuntala must go to-day;I miss her now at heart;I dare not speak a loving wordOr choking tears will start.

My eyes are dim with anxious thought;Love strikes me to the life:And yet I strove for pious peace--I have no child, no wife.

What must a father feel, when comeThe pangs of parting from his child at home?

Like Sharmishtha, Yayati's wife,Win favour measured by your worth;And may you bear a kingly sonLike Puru, who shall rule the earth.

The holy fires around the altar kindle,And at their margins sacred grass is piled;Beneath their sacrificial odours dwindleMisfortunes. May the fires protect you, child!

She would not drink till she had wetYour roots, a sister's duty,Nor pluck your flowers; she loves you yetFar more than selfish beauty.

'Twas festival in her pure lifeWhen budding blossoms showed;And now she leaves you as a wife--Oh, speed her on her road!

The trees are answering your prayerIn cooing cuckoo-song,Bidding Shakuntala farewell,Their sister for so long.

May lily-dotted lakes delight your eye;May shade-trees bid the heat of noonday cease;May soft winds blow the lotus-pollen nigh;May all your path be pleasantness and peace.

Gautami. My child, the fairies of the pious grove bid you farewell.For they love the household. Pay reverence to the holy ones.

Priyamvada. You are not the only one to feel sad at this farewell.See how the whole grove feels at parting from you.

The grass drops from the feeding doe;The peahen stops her dance;Pale, trembling leaves are falling slow,The tears of clinging plants.

Shakuntala (approaches the vine and embraces it). Vine sister,embrace me too with your arms, these branches. I shall be far awayfrom you after to-day. Father, you must care for her as you did forme.

My child, you found the lover whoHad long been sought by me;No longer need I watch for you;I'll give the vine a lover true,This handsome mango-tree.

Kanva. Anusuya! Priyamvada! Do not weep. It is you who should cheerShakuntala. (All walk about.)

It is the fawn whose lip, when tornBy kusha-grass, you soothed with oil;The fawn who gladly nibbled cornHeld in your hand; with loving toilYou have adopted him, and heWould never leave you willingly.

Be brave, and check the rising tearsThat dim your lovely eyes;Your feet are stumbling on the pathThat so uneven lies.

Kanva. Then let us rest in the shade of this fig-tree. (All doso.) What commands would it be fitting for me to lay on KingDushyanta? (He reflects.)

The sheldrake does not heed his mateWho calls behind the lotus-leaf;He drops the lily from his billAnd turns on you a glance of grief.

Remembering my religious worth,Your own high race, the love poured forthBy her, forgetful of her friends,Pay her what honour custom lendsTo all your wives. And what fate givesBeyond, will please her relatives.

Obey your elders; and be very kindTo rivals; never be perversely blindAnd angry with your husband, even though heShould prove less faithful than a man might be;Be as courteous to servants as you may,Not puffed with pride in this your happy day:Thus does a maiden grow into a wife;But self-willed women are the curse of life.

Gautami. This is advice sufficient for a bride. (To SHAKUNTALA.)You will not forget, my child.

Kanva. My daughter, they too must some day be given in marriage.Therefore they may not go to court. Gautami will go with you.

Shakuntala (throwing her arms about her father). I am torn frommy father's breast like a vine stripped from a sandal-tree on theMalabar hills. How can I live in another soil? (She weeps.)

A noble husband's honourable wife,You are to spend a busy, useful lifeIn the world's eye; and soon, as eastern skiesBring forth the sun, from you there shall ariseA child, a blessing and a comfort strong--You will not miss me, dearest daughter, long.

When you have shared for many yearsThe king's thoughts with the earth,When to a son who knows no fearsYou shall have given birth,

When, trusted to the son you love,Your royal labours cease,Come with your husband to the groveAnd end your days in peace.

My lonely sorrow will not go,For seeds you scattered hereBefore the cottage door, will grow;And I shall see them, dear.

Go. And peace go with you. (Exit SHAKUNTALA, with GAUTAMI,SHARNGARAVA, and SHARADVATA.)

The two friends (gazing long after her. Mournfully). Oh, oh!Shakuntala is lost among the trees.

Kanva. So love interprets. (He walks about, sunk in thought.) Ah!I have sent Shakuntala away, and now I am myself again. For

A girl is held in trust, another's treasure;To arms of love my child to-day is given;And now I feel a calm and sacred pleasure;I have restored the pledge that came from heaven.