nds the coral-trees. _King_.
Here is deeper contentment than in heaven. I seem plunged in a pool of
nectar.

_Matali_ (_stopping the chariot_). Descend, O King.

_King_ (_descending_). But how will you fare?

_Matali_. The chariot obeys the word of command. I too will descend.
(_He does so_.) Before you, O King, are the groves where the holiest
hermits lead their self-denying life.

_King_. I look with amazement both at their simplicity and at what
they might enjoy.

Their appetites are fed with air
Where grows whatever is most fair;
They bathe religiously in pools
Which golden lily-pollen cools;
They pray within a jewelled home,
Are chaste where nymphs of heaven roam:
They mortify desire and sin
With things that others fast to win.

_Matali_. The desires of the great aspire high. (_He walks about and
speaks to some one not visible_.) Ancient Shakalya, how is Marichi's
holy son occupied? (_He listens_.) What do you say? That he is
explaining to Aditi, in answer to her question, the duties of a
faithful wife? My matter must await a fitter time. (_He turns to the
king_.) Wait here, O King, in the shade of the ashoka tree, till I
have announced your coming to the sire of Indra.

_King_. Very well. (_Exit_ MATALI. _The king's arm throbs, a happy
omen_.)

I dare not hope for what I pray;
Why thrill--in vain?
For heavenly bliss once thrown away
Turns into pain.

_A voice behind the scenes_. Don't! You mustn't be so foolhardy. Oh,
you are always the same.

_King_ (_listening_). No naughtiness could feel at home in this spot.
Who draws such a rebuke upon himself? (_He looks towards the sound. In
surprise_.) It is a child, but no child in strength. And two
hermit-women are trying to control him.

He drags a struggling lion cub,
The lioness' milk half-sucked, half-missed,
Towzles his mane, and tries to drub
Him tame with small, imperious fist.

(_Enter a small boy, as described, and two hermit-women_.)

_Boy_. Open your mouth, cub. I want to count your teeth.

_First woman_. Naughty boy, why do you torment our pets? They are like
children to us. Your energy seems to take the form of striking
something. No wonder the hermits call you All-tamer.

_King_. Why should my heart go out to this boy as if he were my own
son? (_He reflects_.) No doubt my childless state makes me
sentimental.

_Second woman_. The lioness will spring at you if you don't let her
baby go.

_Boy