ANASUYA.--See, dear Sakoontala, here is the young jasmine, which you
named "the Moonlight of the Grove," the self-elected wife of the
mango-tree. Have you forgotten it?
SAKOONTALA.--Rather will I forget myself. [_Approaching the plant and
looking at it_.] How delightful is the season when the jasmine-creeper
and the mango-tree seem thus to unite in mutual embraces! The fresh
blossoms of the jasmine resemble the bloom of a young bride, and the
newly-formed shoots of the mango appear to make it her natural
protector. [_Continues gazing at it_.
PRIYAMVADA [_smiling_].--Do you know, my Anasuya, why Sakoontala gazes
so intently at the jasmine?
ANASUYA.--No, indeed, I cannot imagine. I pray thee tell me.
PRIYAMVADA.--She is wishing that as the jasmine is united to a suitable
tree, so, in like manner, she may obtain a husband worthy of her.
SAKOONTALA.--Speak for yourself, girl; this is the thought in your own
mind. [_Continues watering the flowers_.
KING.--Would that my union with her were permissible! and yet I hardly
dare hope that the maiden is sprung from a caste different from that of
the Head of the hermitage.
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