KING.
When I have gently stolen from thy lips
Their yet untasted nectar, to allay
The raging of my thirst, e'en as the bee
Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud.
[Attempts to raise her face. [S']AKOONTALÁ tries to prevent him_.
A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES.
The loving birds, doomed by fate to nightly separation[56], must bid farewell to each other, for evening is at hand.
[S']AKOONTALÁ. [In confusion.
Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches.
KING.
I will. [Conceals himself.
Enter GAUTAMÍ with a vase in her hand, preceded by two attendants.