tion of its beauties, is
the diffidence I feel lest I may have failed to infuse any of the
poetry of the original into the present version. Translation of poetry
must, at the best, resemble the process of pouring a highly volatile
and evanescent spirit from one receptacle into another. The original
fluid will always suffer a certain amount of waste and evaporation.

The English reader will at least be inclined to wonder at the
analogies which a thoroughly Eastern play offers to our own dramatic
compositions written many centuries later. The dexterity with which
the plot is arranged and conducted, the ingenuity with which the
incidents are connected, the skill with which the characters are
delineated and contrasted with each other, the boldness and felicity
of the diction, are scarcely unworthy of the great dramatists of
European countries. Nor does the parallel fail in the management of
the business of the stage, in minute directions to the actors, and
various scenic artifices. The asides and aparts, the exits and the
entrances, the manner, attitude, and gait of the speakers, the tone of
voice with which they are to deliver themselves, the tears, the
smiles, and the laughter, are as regularly indicated as in a modern
drama.

In reference to the constitution and structure of the play here
translated, a few general remarks on the dramatic system of the Hindus
may be needed[5].

Dramatic poetry is said to have been invented by the sage Bharata,
who lived at a very remote period of Indian history, and was the
author of a system of music. The drama of these early times was
probably nothing more than the Indian Nach-dance (Nautch) of the
present day. It was a species of rude pantomime, in which dancing and
movements of the body were accompanied by mute gestures of the hands
and face, or by singing and music. Subsequently, dialogue was added,
and the art of theatrical representation was brought to great
perfection. Elaborate treatises were written which laid down minute
regulations for the construction and conduct of plays, and subjected
dramatic composition to highly artificial rules of poetical and
rhetorical style. For example, the Sahitya-darpana divides Sanskrit
plays into two great classes, the Rupaka or principal dramas, and the
Uparupaka or minor dramas. At the head of the ten species of Rupaka
stands the Nataka, of which the '[S']akoontala' is an example. It should
consist of from five to ten Acts; it should have