Shakuntala. I cannot see it. The pollen from the lotus over my ear has blown into my eye.
King (smiling). Will you permit me to blow it away?
Shakuntala. I should not like to be an object of pity. But why should I not trust you? King. Do not have such thoughts. A new servant does not transgress orders.
Shakuntala. It is this exaggerated courtesy that frightens me.
King (to himself). I shall not break the bonds of this sweet servitude. (He starts to raise her face to his. SHAKUNTALA resists a little, then is passive.)
King. Oh, my bewitching girl, have no fear of me.
(SHAKUNTALA darts a glance at him, then looks down. The king raises her face. Aside.)
Her sweetly trembling lip
With virgin invitation
Provokes my soul to sip
Delighted fascination.
Shakuntala. You seem slow, dear, in fulfilling your promise.
King. The lotus over your ear is so near your eye, and so like it, that I was confused. (He gently blows her eye.)