Fisherman.  Take half of it, masters, to pay for something to drink.

Januka.  Fisherman, you are the biggest and best friend I’ve got.  The first thing we want, is all the brandy we can hold.  Let’s go where they keep it. (Exeunt omnes.)

SCENE II.—­In the Palace Gardens

(Enter MISHRAKESHI, flying through the air.)

Mishrakeshi.  I have taken my turn in waiting upon the nymphs.  And now I will see what this good king is doing.  Shakuntala is like a second self to me, because she is the daughter of Menaka.  And it was she who asked me to do this. (She looks about.) It is the day of the spring festival.  But I see no preparations for a celebration at court.  I might learn the reason by my power of divination.  But I must do as my friend asked me.  Good!  I will make myself invisible and stand near these girls who take care of the garden.  I shall find out that way.

(She descends to earth.  Enter a maid, gazing at a mango branch, and behind her, a second.)

First maid.

  First mango-twig, so pink, so green,
  First living breath of spring,
  You are sacrificed as soon as seen,
  A festival offering.

Second maid.  What are you chirping about to yourself, little cuckoo?

First maid.  Why, little bee, you know that the cuckoo goes crazy with delight when she sees the mango-blossom.

Second maid (joyfully).  Oh, has the spring really come?

First maid.  Yes, little bee.  And this is the time when you too buzz about in crazy joy. Second maid.  Hold me, dear, while I stand on tiptoe and offer this blossom to Love, the divine.

First maid.  If I do, you must give me half the reward of the offering.

Second maid.  That goes without saying, dear.  We two are one. (She leans on her friend and takes the mango-blossom.) Oh, see!  The mango-blossom hasn’t opened, but it has broken the sheath, so it is fragrant. (She brings her hands together.) I worship mighty Love.

  O mango-twig I give to Love
    As arrow for his bow,
  Most sovereign of his arrows five,
    Strike maiden-targets low.

(She throws the twig.  Enter the chamberlain.)

Chamberlain (angrily).  Stop, silly girl.  The king has strictly forbidden the spring festival.  Do you dare pluck the mango-blossoms?

The two maids (frightened).  Forgive us, sir.  We did not know.

Chamberlain.  What!  You have not heard the king’s command, which is obeyed even by the trees of spring and the creatures that dwell in them.  See!

  The mango branches are in bloom,
    Yet pollen does not form;
  The cuckoo’s song sticks in his throat,
    Although the days are warm;

  The amaranth-bud is formed, and yet
    Its power of growth is gone;
  The love-god timidly puts by
    The arrow he has drawn.