Scene III


The tower-room by the terrace.

Vuthsa asleep on a couch; Munjoolica.

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

VASAVADUTTA approaching at the doorway
Didst thou call?

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

He sleep!

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.

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.


Hush, wake him not!

She drags her to the couch-side.

Is he not beautiful?

She draws back and after a moment goes quitly 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 beloved, 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 awakens him.

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 it bolted from outside.

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

MUNJOOLICA outside, solemnly

For pity, sweet 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.

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 princess 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 armed men. So will I wed thee,
O Vasavadutta, so wilt 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 wouldst forbid.
Let thy heart speak instead the word of joy,
O Vasavadutta.

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