SCENE V

Vasanta
I CANNOT keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired. It is a
hard task to keep alive the fire thou hast kindled. Sleep
overtakes me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover
the glow of the fire. I start up again from my slumber and with
all my might rescue the weary flame. But this can go on no
longer.

Madana
I know, thou art as fickle as a child. Ever restless is thy play
in heaven and on earth. Things that thou for days buildest up
with endless detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret.
But this work of ours is nearly finished. Pleasure-winged days
fly fast, and the year, almost at its end, swoons in rapturous
bliss.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

SCENE VI

Arjuna

I WOKE in the morning and found that my dreams had distilled a
gem. I have no casket to inclose it, no king's crown whereon to
fix it, no chain from which to hang it, and yet have not the
heart to throw it away. My Kshatriya's right arm, idly occupied
in holding it, forgets its duties.

Enter CHITRA.
Chitra
Tell me your thoughts, sir!

Arjuna
My mind is busy with thoughts of hunting today. See, how the
rain pours in torrents and fiercely beats upon the hillside. The
dark shadow of the clouds hangs heavily over the forest, and the
swollen stream, like reckless youth, overleaps all barriers with
mocking laughter. On such rainy days we five brothers would go
to the Chitraka forest to chase wild beasts. Those were glad
times. Our hearts danced to the drumbeat of rumbling clouds. The
woods resounded with the screams of peacocks. Timid deer could
not hear our approaching steps for the patter of rain and the
noise of waterfalls; the leopards would leave their tracks on the
wet earth, betraying their lairs. Our sport over, we dared each
other to swim across turbulent streams on our way back home. The
restless spirit is on me. I long to go hunting.

Chitra
First run down the quarry you are now following. Are you quite
certain that the enchanted deer you pursue must needs be caught?
No, not yet. Like a dream the wild creature eludes you when it
seems most nearly yours. Look how the wind is chased by the mad
rain that discharges a thousand arrows after it. Yet it goes
free and unconquered. Our sport is like that, my love! You give
chase to the fleet-footed spirit of beauty, aiming at her every
dart you have in your hands. Yet this magic deer runs ever free
and untouched.