Radha and Krishna have withdrawn into a kunja, onto a bed of fresh flowers. And just then a bumblebee flies up and begins to circle right at Radhika's face. She snatches the edge of her veil, waves it through the air to drive the unwanted guest away, and at last cannot bear it: "Krishna, I beg you, drive this pestering thing away!" But Krishna has no thought of helping. He turns to the bee itself and eggs it on: "O king of bees! Yes, yes — taste the honey of this lotus flower," and urges it more and more toward her face. Why this sudden mischief? Because only a moment ago she herself had been teasing him — so why not tease her back? And now, as the bee reaches the lotus and Radhika flails and fights it off, Krishna can hold back no longer. His lips are red as the bimba fruit, his teeth flash white as jasmine flowers: it is for this very smile that Kapiladeva bids us meditate upon Krishna's laughter. She called for rescue — and he only laughs the brighter.