[Hears a voice.
Nor care not. I will return.
Sunandi. Stop, girl.
Koïl. I will not.
All others will I tempt, but——
Sunandi (holding her). Him will love!
[Rishyas slowly approaches, chanting.
And you were suckled at the breast of fortune
To be the first so fair a saint shall look on.
Use well your charms—and chain him with enchantment.
[Sees the girl is enthralled by the voice and goes into wood. Rishyas soon enters opposite, laden and singing:
Spirit of the risen sun!
Now returns the offering-hour.
Fruit I bring to you and flower,
Here receive them, O great—
[Breaks off, at sight of her, and the offerings fall slowly from his arms.
Koïl (as they gaze long and tremblingly).
O saint, is it peace with you, and is all well?
And have you roots and fruit enough for food;
And have you joy in singing holy Vedas
Here in this leafy-hearted hermitage?
Rishyas. O radiant one, yes—all is godly well.
But whence are you?
And whither do you go?
I have dwelt only here, and not before
Have I beheld so fair a vision fall—
Even from skies where wing the Apsaras.
Koïl. I am not fair, O son of Vishwamya,
[Timidly.
But I have come from very far away.
Rishyas (quickly). And I have offered you no laving-water
For hands and feet,
Nor any fruit and herbs!
Will you not sit upon this mat of kusa,
Or on this skin of the wild antelope,
And let me loose your sandals?—O sweet saint,
For saint so bright an one must be!—it will
Be dear to touch and tend you!
For in this place I have beheld no other—
Only my father,
Who is old and mighty
In meditations he would have me mind.
But you are fair as well. Will you not sit?
Koïl. No, pious one, it is not meet for me
To touch the holy water—yet I thank you.
Rishyas. Not meet for you? O, unto one who is
So beautiful, are not all things most meet?
Better are you, I know, than all the devas.
And tho for but a moment I have seen you,
I fain would follow
The holy vows you follow.
For you I would do all things. When I gaze
Upon you all my body is as fire
Upon the altar when I sacrifice.
Will you not eat or drink?
Koïl. Not at your hands.
But see, O holy one, here are rare cakes,
Brought with me from afar, and here is soma,
Sparkling and ready with divinity
To lift whoever drinks of it to joy.
Drink you with me!
Rishyas. O gladly will I; give it.