MATHAVYA [_aside_].--Pooh! if I were he, I would fill up the vacant
spaces with a lot of grizzly-bearded old hermits.
KING.--My dear Mathavya, there is still a part of Sakoontala's dress
which I purposed to draw, but find I have omitted.
MATHAVYA.--What is that?
SANUMATI [_aside_].--Something suitable, I suppose, to the simple attire
of a young and beautiful girl dwelling in a forest.
KING.--A sweet Sirisha blossom should be twined
Behind her ear, its perfumed crest depending
Towards her cheek; and, resting on her bosom,
A lotus-fibre necklace, soft and bright
As an autumnal moon-beam, should be traced.
MATHAVYA.--Pray, why does the Queen cover her lips with the tips of her
fingers, bright as the blossom of a lily, as if she were afraid of
something? [_Looking more closely_.] Oh! I see; a vagabond bee, intent
on thieving the honey of flowers, has mistaken her mouth for a rose-bud,
and is trying to settle upon it.
KING.--A bee! drive off the impudent insect, will you?
MATHAVYA.--That's your business. Your royal prerogative gives you power
over all offenders.
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