The maidservants sat outside the kuñja and listened to the jingling of her ankle bells. Then came silence, and the silence made them curious. They moved to where the lattice window was and looked in: Rādhikā lies on the flower bed and cannot lift so much as a finger. And He is not tired — He looks at her with wide eyes, reddened from the sleepless night and from the intoxication of prema. He wants the play to go on, so He fans her, He massages her feet. Nothing works. Then He says: let Me help you sit up.