KING.—I will leave thee when———
ŚAKOONTALÁ.—When?
KING.—When I have gently stolen from thy lips
Their yet untasted nectar, to allay
The raging of my thirst, e'en as the bee
Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud.
[Attempts to raise her face. Śakoontalá tries to prevent him.
A VOICE [behind the scenes].—The loving birds, doomed by fate to nightly separation, must bid farewell to each other, for evening is at hand.
ŚAKOONTALÁ [in confusion].—Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way, to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches.
KING.—I will.
[Conceals himself.
Enter Gautamí with a vase in her hand, preceded by two attendants.