tion of watering the shrubs has already fatigued her.

The water-jar has overtasked the strength

Of her slim arms; her shoulders droop, her hands

Are ruddy with the glow of quickened pulses ; E'en now her agitated breath imparts Unwonted tremor to her heaving breast; The pearly drops that mar the recent bloom Of the Sirísha pendent in her ear, Gather in clustering circles on her cheek; Loosed is the fillet of her hair; her hand Restrains the locks that struggle to be free. Suffer me, then, thus to discharge the debt for

you.

[Offers a ring to PRIYAMVADÁ. Both the maidens,

reading the name DUSHYANTA on the seal, look at each other with surprise.

KING.

Nay, think not that I am King Dushyanta. I am only the King's officer, and this is the ring which I have received from him as my credentials.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

The greater the reason you ought not to part with the ring from your finger. I am content to release her from her obligation at your simple request. [With a smile.] Now, Śakoontalá, my love, you are at liberty to retire,

thanks to the intercession of this noble stranger, or

rather of this mighty prince.

My movements are no longer under my own control. [Aloud.] Pray, what authority have you over me, either to send me away or keep me back?

KING.

[Gazing at SAKOONTALÁ. Aside.

Would I could ascertain whether she is affected towards me as I am towards her! At any rate, my hopes are free to indulge themselves. Because,

Although she mingles not her words with mine,
Yet doth her listening ear drink in my speech;
Although her eye shrinks from my ardent gaze,
No form but mine attracts its timid glances.

A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.

O hermits, be ready to protect the animals belonging to our hermitage. King Dushyanta, amusing himself with hunting, is near at hand.

Lo! by the feet of prancing horses raised,

Thick clouds of moving dust, like glittering

swarms

Of locusts, in the glow of eventide,

Fall on the branches of our sacred trees;

Where hang the dripping vests of woven bark, Bleached by the waters of the cleansing fountain. And see!

Scared by the royal chariot in its course,
With headlong haste an elephant invades
The hallowed precincts of our sacred grove;
Himself the terror of the startled deer,
And an embodied hindrance to our rites.
The hedge of creepers clinging to his feet,
Feeble obstruction to his mad career,

Is dragged behind him in a tangled chain ;
And with terrific shock one tusk he drives
Into the riven body of a tree,

Sweeping before him all impediments.

Out upon it! my retinue are looking for me, and

are disturbing this holy retreat.

Well! there is no

help for it; I must go and meet them.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASUYÁ.

Noble Sir, we are terrified by the accidental disturbance caused by the wild elephant. Permit us to return to the cottage.

Go, gentle maidens. It shall be our care that no injury happen to the hermitage.

[All rise up.

PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASUYA.

After such poor hospitality, we are ashamed to request the honour of a second visit from you.

KING.

Say not so. The mere sight of you, sweet maidens, has been to me the best entertainment.

SAKOONTALA.

Anasúyá, a pointed blade of Kusa-grass 30 has pricked my foot; and my bark-mantle is caught in the branch of a Kuruvaka-bush 31. Be so good as to wait for me until I have disentangled it.

[Exit with her two companions, after making pretexts

for delay, that she may steal glances at the KING.

KING.

I have no longer any desire to return to the city. I will therefore rejoin my attendants, and make them encamp somewhere in the vicinity of this sacred grove. In good truth, Śakoontalá has taken such possession of my thoughts, that I cannot turn myself in any other direction.

My limbs drawn onward leave my heart behind,
Like silken pennon borne against the wind.

ACT II.

SCENE. A plain on the skirts of the forest.

Enter the Jester 2 MATHAVYA, in a melancholy mood.

Heigh-ho! what an unlucky fellow I am! worn to a shadow by my royal friend's sporting propensities. 'Here's a deer!' 'There goes a boar!' 'Yonder's a tiger! This is the only burden of our talk, while in the heat of the meridian sun we toil on from jungle to jungle, wandering about in the paths of the woods, where the trees afford us no shelter. Are we thirsty? We have nothing to drink but the dirty water of some mountain stream mixed with dry leaves, which give it a most pungent flavour. Are we hungry? We have nothing to eat but roast game 33, which we must swallow down at odd times, as best we can. Even at night there is no peace to be had. Sleeping is out of the question, with joints all strained by dancing attendance upon my sporting friend; or if I do happen to doze, I am awakened at the very earliest dawn by the horrible din of a lot of rascally beaters and huntsmen, who must needs surround the wood before sunrise, and deafen me with their clatter. Nor are these my only troubles. Here's a fresh grievance, like a new boil