Here, as she tripped along, her fingers plucked The opening buds: these lacerated plants, Shorn of their fairest blossoms by her hand, Seem like dismembered trunks, whose recent wounds Are still unclosed; while from the bleeding socket Of many a severed stalk, the milky juice Still slowly trickles, and betrays her path.
[_Feeling a breeze._] What a delicious breeze meets me in this spot!
Here may the zephyr, fragrant with the scent Of lotuses, and laden with the spray Caught from the waters of the rippling stream, Fold in its close embrace my fevered limbs.
[_Walking and looking about._] She must be somewhere in the neighborhood of this arbor of overhanging creepers, enclosed by plantations of cane. [_Looking down._]
For at the entrance here I plainly see A line of footsteps printed in the sand. Here are the fresh impressions of her feet; Their well-known outline faintly marked in front, More deeply towards the heel; betokening The graceful undulation of her gait.
I will peep through those branches. [_Walking and looking. With transport._] Ah! now my eyes are gratified by an entrancing sight. Yonder is the beloved of my heart reclining on a rock strewn with flowers, and attended by her two friends. How fortunate! Concealed behind the leaves, I will listen to their conversation, without raising their suspicions. [_Stands concealed, and gazes at them._]
_Sakoontalá and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands are discovered as described_.
PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ [_fanning her. In a tone of affection._]--Dearest Sakoontalá, is the breeze raised by these broad lotus leaves refreshing to you?
SAKOONTALÁ.--Dear friends, why should you trouble yourselves to fan me?
[_Priyamvadá and Anasúyá look sorrowfully at one another._]
KING.--Sakoontalá seems indeed to be seriously ill. [_Thoughtfully._]Can it be the intensity of the heat that has affected her? or does my heart suggest the true cause of her malady? [_Gazing at her passionately._] Why should I doubt it? The maiden's spotless bosom is o'erspread With cooling balsam; on her slender arm Her only bracelet, twined with lotus stalks, Hangs loose and withered; her recumbent form Expresses languor. Ne'er could noon-day sun Inflict such fair disorder on a maid-- No, love, and love alone, is hereto blame.