The night, an angry rival, bars my way; Her thunders fain would check and hinder me: "Fond fool! with him I love thou shalt not stay, 'T is I, 't is I, he loves," she seems to say, "Nor from my swelling bosom shall he flee." 15 _Courtier._ Yes, yes. That is right. Scold the night. _Vasantasenā._ And yet, sir, why scold one who is so ignorant of woman's nature! For you must remember: The clouds may rain, may thunder ne'er so bold, May flash the lightning from the sky above; That woman little recks of heat or cold, Who journeys to her love. 16 _Courtier._ But see, Vasantasenā! Another cloud, Sped by the fickle fury of the air-- A flood of arrows in his rushing streams, His drum, the roaring thunder's mighty blare, His banner, living lightning's awful gleams-- Rages within the sky, and shows him bold 'Mid beams that to the moon allegiance owe, Like a hero-king within the hostile hold Of his unwarlike foe. 17 P. 142.9] _Vasantasenā._ True, true. And more than this: As dark as elephants, these clouds alone Fall like a cruel dart-- With streaks of lightning and with white birds strewn-- To wound my wretched heart. But, oh, why should the heron, bird of doom, With that perfidious sound[66] Of "Rain! Rain! Rain!"--grim summons to the tomb For her who spends her lonely hours in gloom-- Strew salt upon the wound? 18 _Courtier._ Very true, Vasantasenā. And yet again: It seems as if the sky would take the guise Of some fierce elephant to service bred; The lightning like a waving streamer flies, And white cranes serve to deck his mighty head. 19 _Vasantasenā._ But look, sir, look! Clouds, black as wet tamāla-leaves, the ball Of heaven hide from our sight; Rain-smitten homes of ants decay and fall Like beasts that arrows smite; Like golden lamps within a lordly hall Wander the lightnings bright; As when men steal the wife of some base thrall, Clouds rob the moon of light. 20 _Courtier._ See, Vasantasenā, see! Clouds, harnessed in the lightning's gleams, Like charging elephants dash by; At Indra's bidding, pour their streams, Until with silver cords it seems That earth is linked with sky. 21 [84.14. S. And look yonder! As herds of buffaloes the clouds are black; The winds deny them ease; They fly on lightning wings and little lack Of seeming troubled seas. Smitten with falling drops, the fragrant sod, Upon whose bosom greenest grasses nod, Seems pierced with pearls, each pearl an arrowy rod. 22 _Vasantasenā._ And here is yet another cloud.