KING.
[S']akoontalá seems indeed to be seriously ill.
[Thoughtfully.]
Can it be the intensity of the heat that has affected her? or does my heart suggest the true cause of her malady?
[Gazing at her passionately.]
Why should I doubt it?
The maiden's spotless bosom is o'erspread
With cooling balsam; on her slender arm
Her only bracelet, twined with lotus-stalks,
Hangs loose and withered; her recumbent form
Betokens languor. Ne'er could noon-day sun
Inflict such fair disorder on a maid—
No, love, and love alone, is here to blame.
PRIYAMVADÁ. [Aside to ANASÚYÁ.
I have observed, Anasúyá, that [S']akoontalá has been indisposed ever since her first interview with King Dushyanta. Depend upon it, her ailment is to be traced to that source.