PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ.--Say on, dear Sakoontalá, say on.
SAKOONTALÁ.--Ever since that happy moment, my heart's affections have been fixed upon him, and my energies of mind and body have all deserted me, as you see.
KING [_with rapture_].--Her own lips have uttered the words I most longed to hear. Love lit the flame, and Love himself allays My burning fever, as when gathering clouds Rise o'er the earth in summer's dazzling noon, And grateful showers dispel the morning heat.
SAKOONTALÁ.--You must consent, then, dear friends, to contrive some means by which I may find favor with the King, or you will have ere long to assist at my funeral.
KING [_with rapture_].--Enough! These words remove all my doubts.
PRIYAMVADÁ [_aside to Anasúyá_].--She is far gone in love, dear Anasúyá, and no time ought to be lost. Since she has fixed her affections on a monarch who is the ornament of Puru's line, we need not hesitate for a moment to express our approval.
PRIYAMVADÁ [_aloud_].--We wish you joy, dear Sakoontalá. Your affections are fixed on an object in every respect worthy of you. The noblest river will unite itself to the ocean, and the lovely Mádhaví-creeper clings naturally to the Mango, the only tree capable of supporting it.
KING.--Why need we wonder if the beautiful constellation Visákhá pines to be united with the Moon.
ANASÚYÁ.--By what stratagem can we best secure to our friend the accomplishment of her heart's desire, both speedily and secretly?
PRIYAMVADÁ.--The latter point is all we have to think about. As to "speedily," I look upon the whole affair as already settled.
PRIYAMVADÁ.--Did you not observe how the King betrayed his liking by the tender manner in which he gazed upon her, and how thin he has become the last few days, as if he had been lying awake thinking of her?
KING [_looking at himself_].--Quite true! I certainly am becoming thin from want of sleep:-- As night by night in anxious thought I raise This wasted arm to rest my sleepless head, My jewelled bracelet, sullied by the tears That trickle from my eyes in scalding streams, Slips towards my elbow from my shrivelled wrist. Oft I replace the bauble, but in vain; So easily it spans the fleshless limb That e'en the rough and corrugated skin, Scarred by the bow-string, will not check its fall.