ANASÚYÁ.—You shall hear it, Sir. Some time since, this sage of regal caste, while performing a most severe penance on the banks of the river Godávarí, excited the jealousy and alarm of the gods; insomuch that they despatched a lovely nymph named Menaká to interrupt his devotions.
KING.—The inferior gods, I am aware, are jealous of the power which the practice of excessive devotion confers on mortals.
ANASÚYÁ.—Well, then, it happened that Viśwámitra, gazing on the bewitching beauty of that nymph at a season when, spring being in its glory———
[Stops short, and appears confused.
KING.—The rest may be easily divined. Śakoontalá, then, is the offspring of the nymph.
ANASÚYÁ.—Just so.
KING.—It is quite intelligible.
How could a mortal to such charms give birth?
The lightning's radiance flashes not from earth.
[Śakoontalá remains modestly seated with downcast eyes.
[Aside]. And so my desire has really scope for its indulgence. Yet I am still distracted by doubts, remembering the pleasantry of her female companions respecting her wish for a husband.
PRIYAMVADÁ [looking with a smile at Śakoontalá, and then turning towards the King].—You seem desirous, Sir, of asking something further.