He loathes his former pleasures; he rejects
The daily homage of his ministers.
On his lone couch he tosses to and fro,
Courting repose in vain. Whene'er he meets
The ladies of his palace, and would fain
Address them with politeness, he confounds
Their names; or, calling them "Sakoontala,"
Is straightway silent and abashed with shame.
SANUMATI [_aside_].--To me this account is delightful.
CHAMBERLAIN.--In short, the King is so completely out of his mind that
the festival has been prohibited.
BOTH MAIDENS.--Perfectly right.
A VOICE [_behind the scenes_].--The King! the King! This way, Sire, this
way.
CHAMBERLAIN [_listening_].--Oh! here comes his majesty in this
direction. Pass on, maidens; attend to your duties.
BOTH MAIDENS.--We will, sir. [_Exeunt._
_Enter King Dushyanta, dressed in deep mourning, attended by his Jester,
Mathavya, and preceded by Vetravati._
CHAMBERLAIN [_gazing at the King_].--Well, noble forms are certainly
pleasing, under all varieties of outward circumstances. The King's
person is as charming as ever, notwithstanding his sorrow of mind.
Pages:
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552