Pri. Let us hear the words; and then I will mark them with my nail on this lotos leaf, soft and green as the breast of the young paroquet; it may easily be cut into the form of a letter.—Repeat the verses.
Sac. " Thy heart, indeed, I know not: but mine, Oh! cruel, love warms by day and by night; and all my faculties are centered on thee."
Dushm. [Hastily advancing and pronouncing a verse in the same measure.] "Thee, O slender maid, love only warms; but me he burns; as the day star only stifles the fragrance of the night flower, but quenches the very orb of the moon."
Anu. [Looking at him joyfully.] Welcome, great king; the fruit of my friend's imagination has ripened without delay.
[Sacontalá expresses an inclination to rise.
Dushm. Give yourself no pain. Those delicate limbs, which repose on a couch of flowers, those arms, whose bracelets of lotos are disarranged by a slight pressure, and that sweet frame, which the hot noon seems to have disordered, must not be fatigued by ceremony.
Sac. [Aside.] O my heart, canst thou not rest at length after all thy sufferings?
Anu. Let our sovereign take for his seat a part of the rock on which she reposes.
[Sacontalá makes a little room.