TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS - Awaken Video

god: may thy auspicious sight both now and hereafter prove not to have
been vouchsafed to me in vain!"
She bows down, then rising looks again, and observes:--
"The sight, though oft repeated, never wearies. I must tear myself from
this, lest some one should discover me." She then withdraws a little,
hears a bard sing a ballad in praise of the king, perceives her mistake
and asks herself, "Is this Udayana, to whom my father destined me a
bride?" She becomes enamoured of the king. The king and the queen now
rise to return to the palace.
Sagarika thinks, "They come! I must fly hence. Ah me, unhappy! no longer
to behold him, whom I could gaze upon for ever."
The king addresses his queen thus:--"Come, love, thou puttest the night
to shame. The beauty of the moon is eclipsed by the loveliness of thy
countenance, and the lotus sinks humbled into shade; the sweet songs of
thy attendant damsels discredit the murmurs of the bees, and mortified
they hasten to hide their disgrace within the flowery blossom." The king
and the queen return to the palace.
Sagarika enters a plantain bower with a brush and pallet in order to
paint a picture and soliloquises thus: "Be still, my foolish heart, nor
idly throb for one so high above thy hopes. Why thus anxious to behold
that form, one only view of which has inspired such painful agitation?
Ungrateful, too, as weak, to fly the breast that has been familiar to
thee through life, and seek another, and as yet but once beheld, asylum.
Alas! Why do I blame thee! the terror of _Ananga's_ shaft has rendered
thee a fugitive;--let me implore his pity. Lord of the flowery bow,
victor of demons and of gods! dost thou not blush to waste thy might
upon a weak defenceless maiden, or art thou truly without form and
sense? Ah me, I fear my death impends, and this the fatal cause." She
looks at the picture and goes on, "No one approaches; I will try and
finish the likeness I am here attempting to portray. My heart beats
high, my hand trembles, yet I must try, and whilst occasion favours me,
attempt to complete these lineaments, as the only means to retain them
in my sight." She draws the picture, raising her head beholds her friend
Susangata with a _Sarika_ or talking bird in a cage, and hides the
picture. Susangata sits down, puts her hand upon the picture and asks,
"who is this you have delineated?"
Sagarika answers, "The deity of the festival, _Ananga_." Susangata
observes, "It is cleverly done, but there wants a figure to complete
it. Let me have it, and I will give the god his bride." She takes the
paper and draws the likeness of Sagarika. Sagarika expresses anger. Her
friend remarks, "Do not be offended without cause. I have given your
_Kamadeva_ my _Rati_, that is all. But come, away with disguise, and
confess the truth." Seeing that her friend has discovered her secret,
Sagarika is overcome with shame and entreats her to promise that no body
else shall be made acquainted with her weakness. Her friend replies,
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