Clown. But, man, don't you understand what the words mean?
King (smiling). I was once devoted to Queen Hansavati. And the rebuke comes from her. Friend Madhavya, tell Queen Hansavati in my name that the rebuke is a very pretty one.
Clown. Yes, sir. (He rises.) But, man, you are using another fellow's fingers to grab a bear's tail-feathers with. I have about as much chance of salvation as a monk who hasn't forgotten his passions.
King. Go. Soothe her like a gentleman.
Clown. I suppose I must. (Exit.)
King (to himself). Why am I filled with wistfulness on hearing such a song? I am not separated from one I love. And yet
In face of sweet presentment
Or harmonies of sound,
Man e'er forgets contentment,
By wistful longings bound.There must be recollections
Of things not seen on earth,
Deep nature's predilections,
Loves earlier than birth.
(He shows the wistfulness that comes from unremembered things.)
Chamberlain (approaching). Victory to your Majesty. Here are hermits who dwell in the forest at the foot of the Himalayas. They bring women with them, and they carry a message from Kanva. What is your pleasure with regard to them?
King (astonished). Hermits? Accompanied by women? From Kanva?