grief. Do not mountains remain unshaken even in a gale of wind?

KING.--How can I be otherwise than inconsolable, when I call to mind the
agonized demeanor of the dear one on the occasion of my disowning her?
When cruelly I spurned her from my presence,
She fain had left me; but the young recluse,
Stern as the Sage, and with authority
As from his saintly master, in a voice
That brooked not contradiction, bade her stay.
Then through her pleading eyes, bedimmed with tears,
She cast on me one long reproachful look,
Which like a poisoned shaft torments me still.

SANUMATI [_aside_].--Alas! such is the force of self-reproach following
a rash action. But his anguish only rejoices me.

MATHAVYA.--An idea has just struck me. I should not wonder if some
celestial being had carried her off to heaven.

KING.--Very likely. Who else would have dared to lay a
finger on a wife, the idol of her husband? It is said that Menaka, the
nymph of heaven, gave her birth. The suspicion has certainly crossed my
mind that some of her celestial companions may have taken her to their
own abode.

SANUMATI [_aside_].--His present recollection of every circumstance of
her history does not surprise me so much as his former forgetfulness.

MATHAVYA.--If that's the case, you will be certain to meet her before
long.

KING.--Why?

MATHAVYA.--No father and mother can endure to see a daughter suffering
the pain of separation from her husband.

KING.--Oh! my dear Mathavya,
Was it a dream? or did some magic dire,
Dulling my senses with a strange delusion,
Overcome my spirit? or did destiny,
Jealous of my good actions, mar their fruit,
And rob me of their guerdon? It is past,
Whatever the spell that bound me. Once again
Am I awake, but only to behold
The precipice o'er which my hopes have fallen.

MATHAVYA.--Do not despair in this manner. Is not this very ring a proof
that what has been lost may be unexpectedly found?

KING [_gazing at the ring_].--Ah! this ring, too, has fallen from a
station which it will not easily regain, and deserves all my sympathy.
O gem, deserved the punishment we suffer,
And equal is the merit of our works,
When such our common doom. Thou didst enjoy
The thrilling contact of those slender fingers,
Bright as the dawn; and now how changed thy lot!

SANUMATI [_aside_].--Had it found its way to the hand of any other
person, then indee