ught of you can never leave my heart.

_Shakuntala_ (_takes a few steps. To herself_). Oh, oh! When I hear
him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth
hedge and see how long his love lasts. (_She hides and waits_.)

_King_. Oh, my beloved, my love for you is my whole life, yet you
leave me and go away without a thought.

Your body, soft as siris-flowers,
Engages passion's utmost powers;
How comes it that your heart is hard
As stalks that siris-blossoms guard?

_Shakuntala_. When I hear this, I have no power to go.

_King_. What have I to do here, where she is not? (_He gazes on the
ground_.) Ah, I cannot go.

The perfumed lotus-chain
That once was worn by her
Fetters and keeps my heart
A hopeless prisoner. (_He lifts it reverently_.)

_Shakuntala_ (_looking at her arm_). Why, I was so weak and ill that
when the lotus-bracelet fell off, I did not even notice it.

_King_ (_laying the lotus-bracelet on his heart_). Ah!

Once, dear, on your sweet arm it lay,
And on my heart shall ever stay;
Though you disdain to give me joy,
I find it in a lifeless toy.

_Shakuntala_. I cannot hold back after that. I will use the bracelet
as an excuse for my coming. (_She approaches_.)

_King_ (_seeing her. Joyfully_). The queen of my life! As soon as I
complained, fate proved kind to me.

No sooner did the thirsty bird
With parching throat complain,
Than forming clouds in heaven stirred
And sent the streaming rain.

_Shakuntala_ (_standing before the king_). When I was going away, sir,
I remembered that this lotus-bracelet had fallen from my arm, and I
have come back for it. My heart seemed to tell me that you had taken
it. Please give it back, or you will betray me, and yourself too, to
the hermits.

_King_. I will restore it on one condition.

_Shakuntala_. What condition?

_King_. That I may myself place it where it belongs.

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). What can I do? (_She approaches_.)

_King_. Let us sit on this stone bench. (_They walk to the bench and
sit down_.)

_King_ (_taking_ SHAKUNTALA'S _hand_). Ah!

When Shiva's anger burned the tree
Of love in quenchless fire,
Did heavenly fate preserve a shoot
To deck my heart's desire?

_Shakuntala_ (_feeling his touch_). Hasten, my dear, hasten.

_King_ (_joyfully to himself_). Now I am content. She speaks as a wife
to her husband. (_Aloud_.) Beautiful Shakuntala, the clasp