Priyamvada. He is a frisky little fellow. You can't catch him alone. I'll go with you. (They start to go.)
Shakuntala. I will not let you go and leave me alone.
The two friends (smiling). You alone, when the king of the world is with you! (Exeunt.)
Shakuntala. Are my friends gone?
King (looking about). Do not be anxious, beautiful Shakuntala. Have you not a humble servant here, to take the place of your friends? Then tell me:
Shall I employ the moistened lotus-leaf
To fan away your weariness and grief?
Or take your lily feet upon my knee
And rub them till you rest more easily?
Shakuntala. I will not offend against those to whom I owe honour. (She rises weakly and starts to walk away.) King (detaining her). The day is still hot, beautiful Shakuntala, and you are feverish.
Leave not the blossom-dotted couch
To wander in the midday heat,
With lotus-petals on your breast,
With fevered limbs and stumbling feet.
(He lays his hand upon her.)
Shakuntala. Oh, don't! Don't! For I am not mistress of myself. Yet what can I do now? I had no one to help me but my friends.