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and let her know how impertinently our Priyamvadá has been prattling.

[She rises.

Anu. It will not be decent, my love, for an inhabitant of this hallowed wood to retire before a guest has received complete honour.

[Sacontalá, giving no answer, offers to go.

Dushm. [Aside.] Is she then departing?—[He rises, as if going to stop her, but checks himself.]—The actions of a passionate lover are as precipitate as his mind is agitated. Thus I, whose passion impelled me to follow the hermit's daughter, am restrained by a sense of duty.

Pri. [going up to Sacontalá.] My angry friend, you must not retire.

Sac. [Stepping back and frowning.] What should detain me?

Pri. You owe me the labour, according to our agreement, of watering two more shrubs. Pay me first to acquit your conscience, and then depart if you please.

[Holding her.

Dushm. The damsel is fatigued, I imagine, by pouring so much water on the cherished plants. Her arms, graced with palms like fresh blossoms, hang carelessly down; her bosom heaves with strong breathing; and now her dishevelled locks, from which the string has dropped, are held by one of her lovely hands. Suffer me, therefore, thus to discharge the debt. [Giving his ring to Priyamvadá. Both damsels, reading the name Dushmanta inscribed on the ring, look with surprise at each other.]—It is a toy unworthy of