Love is not yet triumphant; but, methinks, The hearts of both are ripe for his delights.

[_Smiling_.] Ah! thus does the lover delude himself; judging of the state of his loved one's feelings by his own desires. But yet, The stolen glance with half-averted eye, The hesitating gait, the quick rebuke Addressed to her companion, who would fain Have stayed her counterfeit departure; these Are signs not unpropitious to my suit.

So eagerly the lover feeds his hopes, Claiming each trivial gesture for his own.

MaTHAVYA [_still in the same att.i.tude_].--Ah, friend, my hands cannot move to greet you with the usual salutation. I can only just command my lips to wish your majesty victory.

KING.--Why, what has paralyzed your limbs?

MaTHAVYA.--You might as well ask me how my eye comes to water after you have poked your finger into it.

KING.--I don't understand you; speak more intelligibly.

MaTHAVYA.--Ah, my dear friend, is yonder upright reed transformed into a crooked plant by its own act, or by the force of the current?

KING.--The current of the river causes it, I suppose.

MaTHAVYA.--Aye; just as you are the cause of my crippled limbs.

KING.--How so?

MaTHAVYA.--Here are you living the life of a wild man of the woods in a savage, unfrequented region, while your state affairs are left to shift for themselves; and as for poor me, I am no longer master of my own limbs, but have to follow you about day after day in your chases after wild animals, till my bones are all crippled and out of joint. Do, my dear friend, let me have one day's rest.

KING [_aside_].--This fellow little knows, while he talks in this manner, that my mind is wholly engrossed by recollections of the hermit's daughter, and quite as disinclined to the chase as his own.

No longer can I bend my well-braced bow Against the timid deer; nor e'er again With well-aimed arrows can I think to harm These her beloved a.s.sociates, who enjoy The privilege of her companionship; Teaching her tender glances in return.

MaTHAVYA [_looking in the King's face_].--I may as well speak to the winds, for any attention you pay to my requests. I suppose you have something on your mind, and are talking it over to yourself.

KING [_smiling_].--I was only thinking that I ought not to disregard a friend's request.

MaTHAVYA.--Then may the King live forever! [_Moves off_.

KING.--Stay a moment, my dear friend. I have something else to say to you.

MaTHAVYA.--Say on, then.

KING.--When you have rested, you must a.s.sist me in another business, which will give you no fatigue.

MaTHAVYA.--In eating something nice, I hope.

KING.--You shall know at some future time.

MaTHAVYA.--No time better than the present.

KING.--What ho! there.

WARDER [_entering_].--What are your Majesty's commands?

KING.--O Raivataka! bid the General of the forces attend.

WARDER.--I will, Sire. [_Exit and reenters with the General_]

Come forward, General; his Majesty is looking towards you, and has some order to give you.

GENERAL [_looking at the King_].--Though hunting is known to produce ill effects, my royal master has derived only benefit from it. For Like the majestic elephant that roams O'er mountain wilds, so does the King display A stalwart frame, instinct with vigorous life.

His brawny arms and manly chest are scored By frequent pa.s.sage of the sounding string; Unharmed he bears the mid-day sun; no toil His mighty spirit daunts; his st.u.r.dy limbs, Stripped of redundant flesh, relinquish nought Of their robust proportions, but appear In muscle, nerve, and sinewy fibre cased.

[_Approaching the King_.] Victory to the King! We have tracked the wild beasts to their lairs in the forest. Why delay, when everything is ready?

KING.--My friend Mathavya here has been disparaging the chase, till he has taken away all my relish for it.

GENERAL [_aside to Mathavya_].--Persevere in your opposition, my good fellow; I will sound the King's real feelings, and humor him accordingly. [_Aloud_]. The blockhead talks nonsense, and your Majesty, in your own person, furnishes the best proof of it. Observe, Sire, the advantage and pleasure the hunter derives from the chase.

Freed from all grosser influences, his frame Loses its sluggish humors, and becomes Buoyant, compact, and fit for bold encounter.

'Tis his to mark with joy the varied pa.s.sions, Fierce heats of anger, terror, blank dismay, Of forest animals that cross his path.

Then what a thrill transports the hunter's soul, When, with unerring course, his driven shaft Pierces the moving mark! Oh! 'tis conceit In moralists to call the chase a vice; What recreation can compare with this?

MaTHAVYA [_angrily_].--Away! tempter, away! The King has recovered his senses, and is himself again. As for you, you may, if you choose, wander about from forest to forest, till some old bear seizes you by the nose, and makes a mouthful of you.

KING.--My good General, as we are just now in the neighborhood of a consecrated grove, your panegyric upon hunting is somewhat ill-timed, and I cannot a.s.sent to all you have said. For the present, All undisturbed the buffaloes shall sport In yonder pool, and with their ponderous horns Scatter its tranquil waters, while the deer, Couched here and there in groups beneath the shade Of spreading branches, ruminate in peace.

And all securely shall the herd of boars Feed on the marshy sedge; and thou, my bow, With slackened string enjoy a long repose.

GENERAL.--So please your Majesty, it shall be as you desire.

KING.--Recall, then, the beaters who were sent in advance to surround the forest. My troops must not be allowed to disturb this sacred retreat, and irritate its pious inhabitants.

Know that within the calm and cold recluse Lurks unperceived a germ of smothered flame, All-potent to destroy; a latent fire That rashly kindled bursts with fury forth:-- As in the disc of crystal that remains Cool to the touch, until the solar ray Falls on its polished surface, and excites The burning heat that lies within concealed.

GENERAL.--Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed.

MaTHAVYA.--Off with you, you son of a slave! Your nonsense won't go down here, my fine fellow. [_Exit General_.

KING [_looking at his attendants_].--Here, women, take my hunting-dress; and you, Raivataka, keep guard carefully outside.

ATTENDANTS.--We will, sire. [_Exeunt._

MaTHAVYA.--Now that you have got rid of these plagues, who have been buzzing about us like so many flies, sit down, do, on that stone slab, with the shade of the tree as your canopy, and I will seat myself by you quite comfortably.

KING.--Go you, and sit down first.

MaTHAVYA.--Come along, then.

[_Both walk on a little way, and seat themselves_.

KING.--Mathavya, it may be said of you that you have never beheld anything worth seeing: for your eyes have not yet looked upon the loveliest object in creation.

MaTHAVYA.--How can you say so, when I see your Majesty before me at this moment?

KING.--It is very natural that everyone should consider his own friend perfect; but I was alluding to Sakoontala, the brightest ornament of these hallowed groves.

MaTHAVYA [_aside_].--I understand well enough, but I am not going to humor him. [_Aloud_.] If, as you intimate, she is a hermit's daughter, you cannot lawfully ask her in marriage. You may as well, then, dismiss her from your mind, for any good the mere sight of her can do.

KING.--Think you that a descendant of the mighty Puru could fix his affections on an unlawful object?

Though, as men say, the offspring of the sage, The maiden to a nymph celestial owes Her being, and by her mother left on earth, Was found and nurtured by the holy man As his own daughter, in this hermitage;-- So, when dissevered from its parent stalk, Some falling blossom of the jasmine, wafted Upon the st.u.r.dy sunflower, is preserved By its support from premature decay.