[The King sits down. Śakoontalá is confused.]
PRIYAMVADÁ.—Anyone may see at a glance that you are deeply attached to each other. But the affection I have for my friend prompts me to say something of which you hardly require to be informed.
KING.—Do not hesitate to speak out, my good girl. If you omit to say what is in your mind, you may be sorry for it afterwards.
PRIYAMVADÁ.—Is it not your special office as a King to remove the suffering of your subjects who are in trouble?
KING.—Such is my duty, most assuredly.
PRIYAMVADÁ.—Know, then, that our dear friend has been brought to her present state of suffering entirely through love for you. Her life is in your hands; take pity on her and restore her to health.
KING.—Excellent maiden, our attachment is mutual. It is I who am the most honored by it.
ŚAKOONTALÁ [looking at Priyamvadá].—What do you mean by detaining the King, who must be anxious to return to his royal consorts after so long a separation?
KING.—Sweet maiden, banish from thy mind the thought
That I could love another. Thou dost reign
Supreme, without a rival, in my heart,
And I am thine alone: disown me not,
Else must I die a second deadlier death—
Killed by thy words, as erst by Káma's shafts.