MATHAVYA.—­Pray, why does the Queen cover her lips with the tips of her fingers, bright as the blossom of a lily, as if she were afraid of something? [Looking more closely.] Oh!  I see; a vagabond bee, intent on thieving the honey of flowers, has mistaken her mouth for a rose-bud, and is trying to settle upon it.

KING.—­A bee! drive off the impudent insect, will you?

MATHAVYA.—­That’s your business.  Your royal prerogative gives you power over all offenders.

KING.—­Very true.  Listen to me, thou favorite guest of flowering plants; why give thyself the trouble of hovering here?  See where thy partner sits on yonder flower, And waits for thee ere she will sip its dew.

SANUMATI [aside].—­A most polite way of warning him off!

MATHAVYA.—­You’ll find the obstinate creature is not to be sent about his business so easily as you think.

KING.—­Dost thou presume to disobey?  Now hear me—­
    An thou but touch the lips of my beloved,
    Sweet as the opening blossom, whence I quaffed
    In happier days love’s nectar, I will place thee
    Within the hollow of yon lotus cup,
    And there imprison thee for thy presumption.

MATHAVYA.—­He must be bold indeed not to show any fear when you threaten him with such an awful punishment. [Smiling, aside.] He is stark mad, that’s clear; and I believe, by keeping him company, I am beginning to talk almost as wildly. [Aloud.] Look, it is only a painted bee.

KING.—­Painted? impossible!

SANUMATI [aside].—­Even I did not perceive it; how much less should he?

KING.—­Oh! my dear friend, why were you so ill-natured as to tell me the
truth? 
    While, all entranced, I gazed upon her picture,
    My loved one seemed to live before my eyes,
    Till every fibre of my being thrilled
    With rapturous emotion.  Oh! ’twas cruel
    To dissipate the day-dream, and transform
    The blissful vision to a lifeless image.
          [Sheds tears.

SANUMATI [aside].—­Separated lovers are very difficult to please; but he seems more difficult than usual.

KING.—­Alas! my dear Mathavya, why am I doomed to be the victim of
perpetual disappointment? 
    Vain is the hope of meeting her in dreams,
    For slumber night by night forsakes my couch: 
    And now that I would fain assuage my grief
    By gazing on her portrait here before me,
    Tears of despairing love obscure my sight.

SANUMATI [aside],—­You have made ample amends for the wrong you did
Sakoontala in disowning her.

CHATURIKA [entering].—­Victory to the King!  I was coming along with
the box of colors in my hand------

KING.—­What now?

CHATURIKA.—­When I met the Queen Vasumati, attended by Taralika.  She insisted on taking it from me, and declared she would herself deliver it into your Majesty’s hands.