The third change is a necessary consequence of the first; for without the curse, there could have been no separation, no ensuing remorse, and no reunion.

But these changes do not of themselves make a drama out of the epic tale.  Large additions were also necessary, both of scenes and of characters.  We find, indeed, that only acts one and five, with a part of act seven, rest upon the ancient text, while acts two, three, four, and six, with most of seven, are a creation of the poet.  As might have been anticipated, the acts of the former group are more dramatic, while those of the latter contribute more of poetical charm.  It is with these that scissors must be chiefly busy when the play—­rather too long for continuous presentation as it stands—­is performed on the stage.

In the epic there are but three characters—­Dushyanta, Shakuntala, Kanva, with the small boy running about in the background.  To these Kalidasa has added from the palace, from the hermitage, and from the Elysian region which is represented with vague precision in the last act.

The conventional clown plays a much smaller part in this play than in the others which Kalidasa wrote.  He has also less humour.  The real humorous relief is given by the fisherman and the three policemen in the opening scene of the sixth act.  This, it may be remarked, is the only scene of rollicking humour in Kalidasa’s writing.

The forest scenes are peopled with quiet hermit-folk.  Far the most charming of these are Shakuntala’s girl friends.  The two are beautifully differentiated:  Anusuya grave, sober; Priyamvada vivacious, saucy; yet wonderfully united in friendship and in devotion to Shakuntala, whom they feel to possess a deeper nature than theirs.

Kanva, the hermit-father, hardly required any change from the epic Kanva.  It was a happy thought to place beside him the staid, motherly Gautami.  The small boy in the last act has magically become an individual in Kalidasa’s hands.  In this act too are the creatures of a higher world, their majesty not rendered too precise.

Dushyanta has been saved by the poet from his epic shabbiness; it may be doubted whether more has been done.  There is in him, as in some other Hindu heroes, a shade too much of the meditative to suit our ideal of more alert and ready manhood.

But all the other characters sink into insignificance beside the heroine.  Shakuntala dominates the play.  She is actually on the stage in five of the acts, and her spirit pervades the other two, the second and the sixth.  Shakuntala has held captive the heart of India for fifteen hundred years, and wins the love of increasing thousands in the West; for so noble a union of sweetness with strength is one of the miracles of art.

  Though lovely women walk the world to-day
    By tens of thousands, there is none so fair
  In all that exhibition and display
    With her most perfect beauty to compare—­