Madana
Alas, thou daughter of mortals! I stole from the divine
Storehouse the fragrant wine of heaven, filled with it one
earthly night to the brim, and placed it in thy hand to drink—
yet still I hear this cry of anguish!
Chitra [bitterly]
Who drank it? The rarest completion of life's desire, the first
union of love was proffered to me, but was wrested from my grasp?
This borrowed beauty, this falsehood that enwraps me, will slip
from me taking with it the only monument of that sweet union, as
the petals fall from an overblown flower; and the woman ashamed
of her naked poverty will sit weeping day and night. Lord Love,
this cursed appearance companions me like a demon robbing me of
all the prizes of love—all the kisses for which my heart is
athirst.
Madana
Alas, how vain thy single night had been! The barque of joy came
in sight, but the waves would not let it touch the shore.
Chitra
Heaven came so close to my hand that I forgot for a moment that
it had not reached me. But when I woke in the morning from my
dream I found that my body had become my own rival. It is my
hateful task to deck her every day, to send her to my beloved and
see her caressed by him. O god, take back thy boon!
Madana
But if I take it from you how can you stand before your lover?
To snatch away the cup from his lips when he has scarcely drained
his first draught of pleasure, would not that be cruel? With
what resentful anger he must regard thee then?
Chitra
That would be better far than this. I will reveal my true self
to him, a nobler thing than this disguise. If he rejects it, if
he spurns me and breaks my heart, I will bear even that in
silence.
Vasanta
Listen to my advice. When with the advent of autumn the
flowering season is over then comes the triumph of fruitage. A
time will come of itself when the heat-cloyed bloom of the body
will droop and Arjuna will gladly accept the abiding fruitful
truth in thee. O child, go back to thy mad festival.
SCENE IV
Chitra
WHY do you watch me like that, my warrior?