Part 13 (1/2)

_King_ (_laying the lotus-bracelet on his heart_). Ah!

Once, dear, on your sweet arm it lay, And on my heart shall ever stay; Though you disdain to give me joy, I find it in a lifeless toy.

_Shakuntala_. I cannot hold back after that. I will use the bracelet as an excuse for my coming. (_She approaches_.)

_King_ (_seeing her. Joyfully_). The queen of my life! As soon as I complained, fate proved kind to me.

No sooner did the thirsty bird With parching throat complain, Than forming clouds in heaven stirred And sent the streaming rain.

_Shakuntala_ (_standing before the king_). When I was going away, sir, I remembered that this lotus-bracelet had fallen from my arm, and I have come back for it. My heart seemed to tell me that you had taken it. Please give it back, or you will betray me, and yourself too, to the hermits.

_King_. I will restore it on one condition.

_Shakuntala_. What condition?

_King_. That I may myself place it where it belongs.

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). What can I do? (_She approaches_.)

_King_. Let us sit on this stone bench. (_They walk to the bench and sit down_.)

_King_ (_taking_ SHAKUNTALA'S _hand_). Ah!

When s.h.i.+va's anger burned the tree Of love in quenchless fire, Did heavenly fate preserve a shoot To deck my heart's desire?

_Shakuntala_ (_feeling his touch_). Hasten, my dear, hasten.

_King_ (_joyfully to himself_). Now I am content. She speaks as a wife to her husband. (_Aloud_.) Beautiful Shakuntala, the clasp of the bracelet is not very firm. May I fasten it in another way?

_Shakuntala_ (_smiling_). If you like.

_King_ (_artfully delaying before he fastens it_). See, my beautiful girl!

The lotus-chain is dazzling white As is the slender moon at night.

Perhaps it was the moon on high That joined her horns and left the sky, Believing that your lovely arm Would, more than heaven, enhance her charm.

_Shakuntala_. I cannot see it. The pollen from the lotus over my ear has blown into my eye.

_King_ (_smiling_). Will you permit me to blow it away?

_Shakuntala_. I should not like to be an object of pity. But why should I not trust you? _King_. Do not have such thoughts. A new servant does not transgress orders.

_Shakuntala_. It is this exaggerated courtesy that frightens me.

_King_ (_to himself_). I shall not break the bonds of this sweet servitude. (_He starts to raise her face to his_. SHAKUNTALA _resists a little, then is pa.s.sive_.)

_King_. Oh, my bewitching girl, have no fear of me.

(SHAKUNTALA _darts a glance at him, then looks down. The king raises her face. Aside_.)