Vasantasenā. [To herself.] See! He thinks I am his servant. [She takes the mantle and perceives its perfume. Ardently to herself.] Oh, beautiful! The mantle is fragrant with jasmine. His youthful days are not wholly indifferent to the pleasures of the world. [She wraps it about her, without letting Chārudatta see.]
Chārudatta. Come, Radanikā, take Rohasena and enter the heart of the house.
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] Ah me unhappy, that have little part or lot in your heart!
Chārudatta. Come, Radanikā, will you not even answer? Alas!
When man once sees that miserable day,
When fate almighty sweeps his wealth away,
Then ancient friendships will no longer hold,
Then all his former bosom-friends grow cold. 53
Maitreya. [Drawing near to Radanikā.] Sir, here is Radanikā.
Chārudatta. Here is Radanikā? Who then is this—
This unknown lady, by my robe
Thus clinging, desecrated,
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] Say rather "consecrated."
Chārudatta.
Until she seems the crescent moon,
With clouds of autumn[1] mated? 54
But no! I may not gaze upon another's wife.
Maitreya. Oh, you need not fear that you are looking at another man's wife. This is Vasantasenā, who has been in love with you ever since she saw you in the garden where Kāma's temple stands.
Chārudatta. What! this is Vasantasenā? [Aside.]
My love for whom—my fortune spent—
My wretched self in twain has rent,
Like coward's anger, inward bent. 55
- ↑ Which look pretty, but do not rain. He doubtless means to suggest that the cloak, belonging to a strange man, is as useless to Vasantasenā as the veil of autumn clouds to the earth.
