ill go and
look for her there.

[_Walking and looking about_.]

I suspect the fair one has but just passed by this avenue of
young trees.

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 neighbourhood of this arbour 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[51].

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_.

[S']AKOONTALA _and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands,
are discovered as described_.

PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA.

[_Fanning her. In a tone of affection_.

Dearest [S']akoontala, is the breeze raised by these broad
lotus-leaves refreshing to you?

[S']AKOONTALA.

Dear friends, why should you trouble yourselves to fan me?

[PRIYAMVADA _and_ ANASUYA _look sorrowfully at one another_.

KING.

[S']akoontala 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;