) This is a pleasant spot, with the wind
among the trees.

Limbs that love's fever seizes,
Their fervent welcome pay
To lotus-fragrant breezes
That bear the river-spray.

(_He studies the ground_.) Ah, Shakuntala must be in this reedy bower.
For

In white sand at the door
Fresh footprints appear,
The toe lightly outlined,
The heel deep and clear.

I will hide among the branches, and see what happens. (_He does so.
Joyfully_.) Ah, my eyes have found their heaven. Here is the darling
of my thoughts, lying upon a flower-strewn bench of stone, and
attended by her two friends. I will hear what they say to each other.

(_He stands gazing. Enter_ SHAKUNTALA _with her two friends_.)

_The two friends_ (_fanning her_). Do you feel better, dear, when we
fan you with these lotus-leaves?

_Shakuntala_ (_wearily_). Oh, are you fanning me, my dear girls? (_The
two friends look sorrowfully at each other_.)

_King_. She is seriously ill. (_Doubtfully_.) Is it the heat, or is it
as I hope? (_Decidedly_.) It _must_ be so.

With salve upon her breast,
With loosened lotus-chain,
My darling, sore oppressed,
Is lovely in her pain.

Though love and summer heat
May work an equal woe,
No maiden seems so sweet
When summer lays her low.

_Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Anusuya, since she first saw the
good king, she has been greatly troubled. I do not believe her fever
has any other cause.

_Anusuya_. I suspect you are right. I am going to ask her. My dear, I
must ask you something. You are in a high fever.

_King_. It is too true.

Her lotus-chains that were as white
As moonbeams shining in the night,
Betray the fever's awful pain,
And fading, show a darker stain.

_Shakuntala_ (_half rising_.) Well, say whatever you like.
_Anusuya_. Shakuntala dear, you have not told us what is going on in
your mind. But I have heard old, romantic stories, and I can't help
thinking that you are in a state like that of a lady in love. Please
tell us what hurts you. We have to understand the disease before we
can even try to cure it.

_King_. Anusuya expresses my own thoughts.

_Shakuntala_. It hurts me terribly. I can't tell you all at once.

_Priyamvada_. Anusuya is right, dear. Why do you hide your trouble?
You are wasting away every day. You are nothing but a beautiful
shadow.

_King_. Priyamvada is right. See!

Her cheeks grow thin; her breast and shoulders fail;