and
strong. Leave the little wild flower where it was born; leave it
beautifully to die at the day's end among all fading blossoms and
decaying leaves. Do not take it to your palace hall to fling it
on the stony floor which knows no pity for things that fade and
are forgotten.

Arjuna

Is ours that kind of love?

Chitra

Yes, no other! Why regret it? That which was meant for idle
days should never outlive them. Joy turns into pain when the
door by which it should depart is shut against it. Take it and
keep it as long as it lasts. Let not the satiety of your evening
claim more than the desire of your morning could earn. . . . The
day is done. Put this garland on. I am tired. Take me in your
arms, my love. Let all vain bickerings of discontent die away at
the sweet meeting of our lips.

Arjuna

Hush! Listen, my beloved, the sound of prayer bells from the
distant village temple steals upon the evening air across the
silent trees!

SCENE V

Vasanta

I CANNOT keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired. It is a
hard task to keep alive the fire thou hast kindled. Sleep
overtakes me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover
the glow of the fire. I start up again from my slumber and with
all my might rescue the weary flame. But this can go on no
longer.

Madana

I know, thou art as fickle as a child. Ever restless is thy play
in heaven and on earth. Things that thou for days buildest up
with endless detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret.
But this work of ours is nearly finished. Pleasure-winged days
fly fast, and the year, almost at its end, swoons in rapturous
bliss.

SCENE VI

Arjuna

I WOKE in the morning and found that my dreams had distilled a
gem. I have no casket to inclose it, no king's crown whereon to
fix it, no chain from which to hang it, and yet have not the
heart to throw it away. My Kshatriya's right arm, idly occupied
in holding it, forgets its duties.

Enter CHITRA.

Chitra

Tell me your thoughts, sir!