Vasantasenā. Girl, I wish to love, not to worship.
Madanikā. Is it a Brahman that excites your passion, some youth distinguished for very particular learning?
Vasantasenā. A Brahman I should have to reverence.
Madanikā. Or is it some young merchant, grown enormously wealthy from visiting many cities?
Vasantasenā. A merchant, girl, must go to other countries and leave you behind, no matter how much you love him. And the separation makes you very sad.
Madanikā. It isn't a king, nor a favorite, nor a Brahman, nor a merchant. Who is it then that the princess loves?
Vasantasenā. Girl! Girl! You went with me to the park where Kāma's temple stands?
Madanikā. Yes, mistress.
Vasantasenā. And yet you ask, as if you were a perfect stranger.
Madanikā. Now I know. Is it the man who comforted you when you asked to be protected?