KING.—­Recall, then, the beaters who were sent in advance to surround
the forest.  My troops must not be allowed to disturb this sacred
retreat, and irritate its pious inhabitants. 
    Know that within the calm and cold recluse
    Lurks unperceived a germ of smothered flame,
    All-potent to destroy; a latent fire
    That rashly kindled bursts with fury forth:—­
    As in the disc of crystal that remains
    Cool to the touch, until the solar ray
    Falls on its polished surface, and excites
    The burning heat that lies within concealed.

GENERAL.—­Your Majesty’s commands shall be obeyed.

MATHAVYA.—­Off with you, you son of a slave!  Your nonsense won’t go down here, my fine fellow. [Exit General.

KING [looking at his attendants].—­Here, women, take my hunting-dress; and you, Raivataka, keep guard carefully outside.

ATTENDANTS.—­We will, sire. [Exeunt.

MATHAVYA.—­Now that you have got rid of these plagues, who have been buzzing about us like so many flies, sit down, do, on that stone slab, with the shade of the tree as your canopy, and I will seat myself by you quite comfortably.

KING.—­Go you, and sit down first.

MATHAVYA.—­Come along, then.

          [Both walk on a little way, and seat themselves.

KING.—­Mathavya, it may be said of you that you have never beheld anything worth seeing:  for your eyes have not yet looked upon the loveliest object in creation.

MATHAVYA.—­How can you say so, when I see your Majesty before me at this moment?

KING.—­It is very natural that everyone should consider his own friend perfect; but I was alluding to Sakoontala, the brightest ornament of these hallowed groves.

MATHAVYA [aside].—­I understand well enough, but I am not going to humor him. [Aloud.] If, as you intimate, she is a hermit’s daughter, you cannot lawfully ask her in marriage.  You may as well, then, dismiss her from your mind, for any good the mere sight of her can do.

KING.—­Think you that a descendant of the mighty Puru could fix his
affections on an unlawful object? 
    Though, as men say, the offspring of the sage,
    The maiden to a nymph celestial owes
    Her being, and by her mother left on earth,
    Was found and nurtured by the holy man
    As his own daughter, in this hermitage;—­
    So, when dissevered from its parent stalk,
    Some falling blossom of the jasmine, wafted
    Upon the sturdy sunflower, is preserved
    By its support from premature decay.

MATHAVYA [smiling].—­This passion of yours for a rustic maiden, when you have so many gems of women at home in your palace, seems to me very like the fancy of a man who is tired of sweet dates, and longs for sour tamarinds as a variety.

KING.—­You have not seen her, or you would not talk in this fashion.