[S']AKOONTALÁ. [Aside.
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 [S']AKOONTALÁ. 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.