For now
Unceasing are the charms of halcyon days,
When the cool bath exhilarates the frame;
When sylvan gales are laden with the scent
Of fragrant Patalas; when soothing sleep
Creeps softly on beneath the deepening shade;
And when, at last, the dulcet calm of eve
Entrancing steals o'er every yielding sense.
ACTRESS.--I will. [_Sings._
Fond maids, the chosen of their hearts to please,
Entwine their ears with sweet Sirisha flowers,
Whose fragrant lips attract the kiss of bees
That softly murmur through the summer hours.
STAGE-MANAGER.--Charmingly sung! The audience are motionless as statues,
their souls riveted by the enchanting strain. What subject shall we
select for representation, that we may insure a continuance of their
favor?
ACTRESS.--Why not the same, Sir, announced by you at first? Let the
drama called "Sakoontala, or the Lost Ring," be the subject of our
dramatic performance.
STAGE-MANAGER.--Rightly reminded! For the moment I had forgotten it.
Your song's transporting melody decoyed
My thoughts, and rapt with ecstasy my soul;
As now the bounding antelope allures
The King Dushyanta on the chase intent.
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