Malayavatí (with tears).
Whence should I obtain so great bliss?
Girl.
Say not so. How can he be happy when even Vishnu has no happiness without Lakshmí on his bosom.
Malayavatí.
Can a friend say anything but what is kind? But it makes my passion distress me more, when I think how I did not honour the noble hero with a single word, so that he will say to himself, "That awkward girl is wanting in respectful behaviour." (She weeps.)
Girl.
O lady, do not give way! (To herself.) Yet how should she not weep, since the great passion of her heart distresses her more and more? What then shall I now do? I will place on her breast the juice of a sandal-creeper spray. (Rising and plucking a sprig of sandal, and squeezing out the juice, she places it on her breast. Aloud.) O lady, do I not say, "Weep not?" Even this sandal-juice, notwithstanding its nature, does not relieve thy breast, since it is rendered warm by these tear-drops falling unchecked.
Malayavatí (checks her with a hand).
Do not fan me. Even the wind of the plantain leaf is warm.
