King. Lead the way.
Clown. Follow me. (They walk about and sit down.)
King. Friend Madhavya, you do not know what vision is. You have not seen the fairest of all objects.
Clown. I see you, right in front of me.
King. Yes, every one thinks himself beautiful. But I was speaking of Shakuntala, the ornament of the hermitage.
Clown (to himself). I mustn't add fuel to the flame. (Aloud.) But you can't have her because she is a hermit-girl. What is the use of seeing her?
King. Fool!
And is it selfish longing then,
That draws our souls on high
Through eyes that have forgot to wink,
As the new moon climbs the sky?
Besides, Dushyanta's thoughts dwell on no forbidden object.
Clown. Well, tell me about her.