_The Curtain rises on a window covered by a network of intricate
pattern in front of the Palace._
(_Nandini and Kishôr, a digger boy,
come in._)
_Kishôr_
Have you enough flowers, Nandini? Here, I have brought some more.
_Nandini_
Run away, Kishôr, do,--back to your work, quick! You’ll be late again.
_Kishôr_
I must steal some time from my digging and digging of nuggets to
bring out flowers to you.
_Nandini_
But they’ll punish you, my boy, if they know.
_Kishôr_
You said you _must_ have red oleanders. I am glad they’re hard to
find in this place. Only one tree I discovered after days of search,
nearly hidden away behind a rubbish heap.
_Nandini_
Show it me. I’ll go and gather the flowers myself.
_Kishôr_
Don’t be cruel, Nandini. This tree is my one secret which none shall
know. I’ve always envied Bishu, he can sing to you songs that are
his own. From now I shall have flowers which you’ll have to take only
from my hands.
_Nandini_
But it breaks my heart to know that those brutes punish you.
_Kishôr_
It makes these flowers all the more preciously mine. They come from
my pain.
_Nandini_
It pains me to accept anything which brings you hurt.
_Kishôr_