Chapter 14Scene 3

The tower-room by the terrace. Vuthsa asleep on a couch; Munjoolica.

MUNJOOLICA He sleeps and now to lure my victim here. You! princess! Vasavadutta!

Didst thou call?

MUNJOOLICA Yes, to come in from moonlight to the moon. Thou hast never seen him yet asleep.

He sleeps!

MUNJOOLICA His curls are pillowed on one golden arm Like clouds upon the moon. Wilt thou not see?

I dare not. I will stand here and will see.

MUNJOOLICA Thou shalt not. Either pass or enter in.

Thou playst the tyrant? I will stand and see.

MUNJOOLICA (pushing her suddenly in) In with thee!

Munjoolica!

MUNJOOLICA

Hush, wake him not!

She drags her to the couch-side. Is he not beautiful?

She draws back and after a moment goes quietly out and closes the door.

Oh, now I feel My mother’s heart when over me she bowed Wakeful at midnight! He has never had Since his strange birth a mother’s, sister’s love. O sleeping soul of my belov`ed, hear My vow, that while thy Vasavadutta lives, Thou shalt not lack again one heart’s desire, One tender bodily want. All things at once, Wife, mother, sister, lover, playmate, friend, Queen, comrade, counsellor I will be to thee. Self shall not chill my heart with wedded strife, Nor age nor custom pale my fire of love. I have that strength in me, the strength to love of gods.

A tress of her hair falls on his

face and awakes him.

VUTHSA O Vasavadutta, thou hast come to me!

It was not I! Munjoolica dragged me in. O where is she? The door!

She hastens to the door and finds

Munjoolica! What is this jest? I shall be angry. Open.

MUNJOOLICA (outside, solemnly) Bolted.

For pity, sweet Munjoolica!

MUNJOOLICA I settle my accounts. Be happy. I Am gone.

Go not, go not, Munjoolica.

VUTHSA (coming to her) She’s gone, the thrice-blessed mischief, and tonight This happy prison thou gav’st me is thine too. Goddess! thou art shut in with thy delight. Why wouldst thou flee then through the doors of heaven?

O not tonight! Be patient! I will ask My father; he will give me as thy wife.

VUTHSA Thou thinkst I’ll take thee from thy father’s hands Like a poor Brahmin begging for a dole? Not so do heroes’ children wed, nor they Who from the loins of puissant princes sprang. With the free interchange of looks and hearts Nobly self-given, heaven for the priest And the heart’s answers for the holy verse, They are wedded or by wished-for violence torn Consenting, yet resisting from the midst Of many arm`ed men. So will I wed thee, O Vasavadutta, so will bear by force Out of the house and city of my foes Breaking through hostile gates. By a long kiss I’ll seal thy lips that vainly would forbid. Let thy heart speak instead the word of joy, O Vasavadutta.

Do with me what thou wilt, for I am thine.