lady! is not the sandal-creeper bower in this direction? Come this way, then. (The heroine does so with a meaningless smile.)[1] Here we are at the sandal-creeper bower, therefore let your ladyship enter and sit down on the moonstone seat to recover yourself.
Malayavatí (with a sigh, to herself).
Lord of the flower-tipped arrows,[2] against that man who surpasses you in beauty of form you do nothing at all; but against me, though blameless, you are not ashamed to strike, saying to yourself, "She is a weak woman." (Looking at herself, and gesticulating as one in love. Aloud.) Girl, how is it that even this sandal-creeper bower, from which the sun's rays are kept by the density of the shoots, does not alleviate the pain of my fever?
Girl.
I know the cause of this fever, but the princess is unwilling to avow it.
Malayavatí (to herself).
I am seen through by her. Still I will ask. (Aloud.) Girl, what is that which I will not avow? Come, tell me this cause of yours.
Girl.
It is the man placed in your heart.
