Part 12 (2/2)

Leave not the blossom-dotted couch To wander in the midday heat, With lotus-petals on your breast, With fevered limbs and stumbling feet.

(_He lays his hand upon her_.)

_Shakuntala_. Oh, don't! Don't! For I am not mistress of myself. Yet what can I do now? I had no one to help me but my friends.

_King_. I am rebuked.

_Shakuntala_. I was not thinking of your Majesty. I was accusing fate.

_King_. Why accuse a fate that brings what you desire?

_Shakuntala_. Why not accuse a fate that robs me of self-control and tempts me with the virtues of another?

_King_ (_to himself_).

Though deeply longing, maids are coy And bid their wooers wait; Though eager for united joy In love, they hesitate.

Love cannot torture them, nor move Their hearts to sudden mating; Perhaps they even torture love By their procrastinating.

(SHAKUNTALA _moves away_.)

_King_. Why should I not have my way? (_He approaches and seizes her dress_.)

_Shakuntala_. Oh, sir! Be a gentleman. There are hermits wandering about.

_King_. Do not fear your family, beautiful Shakuntala. Father Kanva knows the holy law. He will not regret it.

For many a hermit maiden who By simple, voluntary rite Dispensed with priest and witness, yet Found favour in her father's sight.

(_He looks about_.) Ah, I have come into the open air. (_He leaves_ SHAKUNTALA _and retraces his steps_.) _Shakuntala_ (_takes a step, then turns with an eager gesture_).

O King, I cannot do as you would have me. You hardly know me after this short talk. But oh, do not forget me.

_King_.

When evening comes, the shadow of the tree Is cast far forward, yet does not depart; Even so, beloved, wheresoe'er you be, The thought of you can never leave my heart.

_Shakuntala_ (_takes a few steps. To herself_). Oh, oh! When I hear him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth hedge and see how long his love lasts. (_She hides and waits_.)

_King_. Oh, my beloved, my love for you is my whole life, yet you leave me and go away without a thought.

Your body, soft as siris-flowers, Engages pa.s.sion's utmost powers; How comes it that your heart is hard As stalks that siris-blossoms guard?

_Shakuntala_. When I hear this, I have no power to go.

_King_. What have I to do here, where she is not? (_He gazes on the ground_.) Ah, I cannot go.

The perfumed lotus-chain That once was worn by her Fetters and keeps my heart A hopeless prisoner. (_He lifts it reverently_.)

_Shakuntala_ (_looking at her arm_). Why, I was so weak and ill that when the lotus-bracelet fell off, I did not even notice it.

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