[_Stands leaning on a staff_.
_Enter King Dushyanta, followed by a retinue in the manner described_.
KING.--True, by no easy conquest may I win her,
Yet are my hopes encouraged by her mien.
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 attitude_].--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.
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