Never talk of that. Take to your home what is abiding and
strong. Leave the little wild flower where it was born; leave it
beautifully to die at the day's end among all fading blossoms and
decaying leaves. Do not take it to your palace hall to fling it
on the stony floor which knows no pity for things that fade and
are forgotten.
Arjuna
Is ours that kind of love?
Chitra
Yes, no other! Why regret it? That which was meant for idle
days should never outlive them. Joy turns into pain when the
door by which it should depart is shut against it. Take it and
keep it as long as it lasts. Let not the satiety of your evening
claim more than the desire of your morning could earn. . . . The
day is done. Put this garland on. I am tired. Take me in your
arms, my love. Let all vain bickerings of discontent die away at
the sweet meeting of our lips.
Arjuna
Hush! Listen, my beloved, the sound of prayer bells from the
distant village temple steals upon the evening air across the
silent trees!
SCENE V
Vasanta
I CANNOT keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired.
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