Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/205

P. 281.1] Chārudatta. [In amazement.]

Who saves me from the uplifted weapon's scorn,

When in Death's jaws I struggled all forlorn,

A streaming cloud above the rainless corn?

[He gazes at her.]

Is this Vasantasenā's counterfeit?

Or she herself, from heaven above descended?

Or do I but in madness see my sweet?

Or has her precious life not yet been ended?

Or again. Did she return from heaven,

That I might rescued be?

Was her form to another given?

Is this that other she?

Vasantasenā. [Rises tearfully and falls at his feet.] O noble Chārudatta, I am indeed the wretch for whose sake you are fallen upon this unworthy plight.

Voices behind the scenes. A miracle, a miracle! Vasantasenā lives. [The bystanders repeat the words.]

Chārudatta. [''Listens, then rises suddenly, embraces Vasantasenā, and closes his eyes. In a voice trembling with emotion''.] My love! You are Vasantasenā!

Vasantasenā. That same unhappy woman.

Chārudatta. [''Gazes upon her. Joyfully''.] Can it be? Vasantasenā herself? [In utter happiness.]

Her bosom bathed in streaming tears,

When in Death's power I fell,

Whence is she come to slay my fears,

Like heavenly magic's spell?

Vasantasenā! Oh, my belovèd!

Unto my body, whence the life was fleeting,

And all for thee, thou knewest life to give.

Oh, magic wonderful in lovers' meeting!

What power besides could make the dead man live?