E'en now in thine unbodied essence lurks
The fire of [S']iva's anger[48], like the flame
That ever hidden in the secret depths
Of ocean, smoulders there unseen[49]. How else
Could'st thou, all immaterial as thou art,
Inflame our hearts thus fiercely?—thou, whose form
Was scorched to ashes by a sudden flash
From the offended god's terrific eye.
Yet, methinks,
Welcome this anguish, welcome to my heart
These rankling wounds inflicted by the god,
Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish[50]
Slain by his prowess; welcome death itself,
So that, commissioned by the lord of love,
This fair one be my executioner.
Adorable divinity! Can I by no reproaches excite your commiseration?
Have I not daily offered at thy shrine
Innumerable vows, the only food
Of thine ethereal essence? Are my prayers
Thus to be slighted? Is it meet that thou
Should'st aim thy shafts at thy true votary's heart,
Drawing thy bow-string even to thy ear?
[Pacing up and down in a melancholy manner.]
Now that the holy men have completed their rites, and have no more need of my services, how shall I dispel my melancholy?
[Sighing.]
I have but one resource. Oh for another sight of the Idol of my soul! I will seek her.
[Glancing at the sun.]
In all probability, as the sun's heat is now at its height, [S']akoontalá is passing her time under the shade of the bowers on the banks of the Máliní, attended by her maidens. I will go and look for her there.
[Walking and looking about.]