B. My heart embraces all the world—and thee.
Y. If you loved me truly, there would not be much room for all the world. You think of the world all day long, and have not a minute's time for your wife.
B. I have, my dear!
Y. My noble Husband!
Y. Scarcely do I dare to call you by that name. You are kind and gentle, but for a husband you are too lofty, too distant in your dignity. It may be wrong in me, it may be sinful, but I wish you were less lofty and more loving.
B. My dearest "Wife," I call thee so on purpose—
My dearest "Wife," thou dost not understand:
The misery and ills of all the world
Weigh heavy on my heart. I'll find no peace
Until at last a remedy be found.
Y. Why dost thou trouble about others? Think of thy son, thy sweetest Rahula, and if thou lovest me a little only, think of me.
B. I think of thee, my loving Wife, but when
I think of thee I think of all—of all
The loving wives, the happy trembling mothers
All over in the world. Happy they are,
But trembling for their babes. Oh! bear in mind,
We all are in the net of sorrow caught.
This world is full of pain, disease and death;
And even death brings no relief. Because
The wheel of life rolls on. The ills continue
In births that constantly repeat themselves.
Y. Oh! do not speak of it my Lord, it makes me sad. Why do you think of misery, while here we are surrounded by wealth and comfort, and even the prospects of our future are most auspicious. Why borrow trouble before it comes?