For many a hermit maiden who
By simple, voluntary rite
Dispensed with priest and witness, yet
Found favour in her father's sight.
(He looks about.) Ah, I have come into the open air. (He leaves SHAKUNTALA and retraces his steps.) Shakuntala (takes a step, then turns with an eager gesture).
O King, I cannot do as you would have me. You hardly know me after this short talk. But oh, do not forget me.
King.
When evening comes, the shadow of the tree
Is cast far forward, yet does not depart;
Even so, belovèd, wheresoe'er you be,
The thought of you can never leave my heart.
Shakuntala (takes a few steps. To herself). Oh, oh! When I hear him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth hedge and see how long his love lasts. (She hides and waits.)
King. Oh, my belovèd, my love for you is my whole life, yet you leave me and go away without a thought.
Your body, soft as siris-flowers,
Engages passion's utmost powers;
How comes it that your heart is hard
As stalks that siris-blossoms guard?
Shakuntala. When I hear this, I have no power to go.
King. What have I to do here, where she is not? (He gazes on the ground.) Ah, I cannot go.