महावीरचरितम् (महाकवि भवभूति - वीररस-प्रधान रामकथा नाटक सम्पूर्ण ७ अङ्क सटीक)

iii. 12¹¹—] Bhavabhūti — Uttara-Rāma-Charita [46 Tamasā—But don't-you-recollect (ayi), child, that, by virtue of Bhāgīrathi's sure-contrivance (vara), even unto deities thou hast become invisible? Sītā—Ah, yes: so it is. Rāma—Dear Jānakī! Why, I say, my dearest Jānakī! Sītā, [as if] choked with passion—Noble my Lord! Inconsistent this really is with all that has happened! With tears. Or rather, wherefore, when I have [here] obtained, as if in another life, this sight of him that I should never have aspired to attain; [wherefore] at a time when towards one so ill-starred as I am, he is so brimful of affection and kind words: [wherefore,] hard as adamant though I be, should I against my noble Lord be so relentless? For, I know his heart, and he knows mine. Rāma, looking in all directions, with dejection—Why! nobody here! Sītā—Honoured Tamasā! Although the author of my causeless banishment, still, as I see him in this his plight, I know not what sort of emotions surge foremost (anubandha) in my heart. Tamasā—I know it, child, I know it: Apathetic through despair and yet stirred with a sense for thy wrongs; in this long long separation as if forthwith ardent for reunion: gracious in thy [innate] goodness and filled to its depths with pity for thy dear Lord's piteous plight, and melting in affection—thus now, meseems (iva), all in a moment thy heart has become. 13 Rāma—Queen! Like a favour incarnate, thy touch, cool and full of affection,— even now it bedews me with joy: but where art thou, thou my Joy? 14 Sītā—These, in sooth, revealing the treasure (sambhāra) of an affection inward and unfathomed, [and] overflowing [me] with joy—these words of my noble Lord I have [once again] heard: [words] which, as I drink them in (jāṇaṁ pachchaeṇa) now—though the barb of my unmerited abandon- ment still rankles within [my heart]—they make me prize this my life [so] highly. Rāma—No (athavā), it could not by any chance be my dearest. Verily, springing out of the perfection of his practised meditation [on her], this must be Rāma's illusion.¹ [Voice,] behind the curtain—Oh, how unfortunate, how unfortunate! That youngling of an elephant who was [fed] formerly by Queen Sītā with tender śallakī leaves gathered by her own hands, fed as he stood before her fond and expectant— 15 a, b ¹ I. e. thinking too intently upon an object you get a hallucination of the same.