Following these hermits
the king finds himself within the precincts of a sacred grove, where
rice is strewn on the ground to feed the parrots that nest in the hollow
trunks, and where the unterrified antelopes do not start at the human
voice. The king stops his chariot and alights, so as not to disturb the
dwellers in the holy wood. He feels a sudden throb in his right arm,
which augurs happy love, and sees hermit maidens approaching to sprinkle
the young shrubs, with watering-pots suited to their strength. The forms
of these hermit maidens eclipse those found in queenly halls, as the
luxuriance of forest vines excels the trim vineyards of cultivation.
Amongst these maidens the king, concealed by the trees, observes
Sakoontala, dressed in the bark garment of a hermit--like a blooming bud
enclosed within a sheath of yellow leaves. When she stands by the
_kesara_-tree, the king is impressed by her beauty, and regrets that she
is, if of a purely Brahmanic origin, forbidden to marry one of the
warrior class, even though he be a king. A very pretty description is
given of the pursuit of Sakoontala by a bee which her sprinkling has
startled from a jasmine flower.
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