[_Exit._
ACT THIRD
Scene.--The Sacred Grove
_Enter King Dushyanta, with the air of one in love_.
KING [_sighing thoughtfully_].--The holy sage possesses magic power
In virtue of his penance; she, his ward,
Under the shadow of his tutelage
Rests in security. I know it well;
Yet sooner shall the rushing cataract
In foaming eddies re-ascend the steep,
Than my fond heart turn back from its pursuit.
God of Love! God of the flowery shafts![38] we are all of us cruelly
deceived by thee, and by the Moon, however deserving of confidence you
may both appear.
For not to us do these thine arrows seem
Pointed with tender flowerets; not to us
Doth the pale moon irradiate the earth
With beams of silver fraught with cooling dews:--
But on our fevered frames the moon-beams fall
Like darts of fire, and every flower-tipped shaft
Of Kama, as it probes our throbbing hearts,
Seems to be barbed with hardest adamant.
Adorable god of love! hast thou no pity for me? [_In a tone of
anguish_.
Pages:
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477