Behind the scenes. Make way! The king is passing.
Cham. [Listening.] Here comes the monarch; depart therefore, damsels, to your own province.
Cham. [Looking at the king.] Ah! how majestick are noble forms in every habiliment!—Our prince, even in the garb of affliction, is a venerable object.—Though he has abandoned pleasure, ornaments, and business; though he is become so thin, that his golden bracelet falls loosened even down to his wrist; though his lips are parched with the heat of his sighs, and his eyes are fixed open by long sorrow and want of sleep, yet am I dazzled by the blaze of virtue which beams in his countenance like a diamond exquisitely polished.
Misr. [Aside, gazing on Dushmanta.] With good reason is my beloved Sacontalá, though disgraced and rejected, heavily oppressed with grief through the absence of this youth.
Dushm. [Advancing slowly in deep meditation.] When my darling with an, antelope's eyes would have reminded me of our love, I was assuredly slumbering; but excess of misery has awakened me.
Misr. [Aside.] The charming girl will at last be happy.
Mádh. [Aside.] This monarch of ours is caught
