KING.
Spare her this trouble, gentle maiden. The exertion 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 [S']irísha 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, [S']akoontalá, my love, you are at liberty to retire, thanks to the intercession of this noble stranger, or rather of this mighty prince.