Then it seems I must do as I am bid.
[Sits down and appears to be thinking.
KING.
How charming she looks! My very eyes forget to wink, jealous of losing even for an instant a sight so enchanting.
How beautiful the movement of her brow,
As through her mind love's tender fancies flow!
And, as she weighs her thoughts, how sweet to trace
The ardent passion mantling in her face!
[S']AKOONTALÁ.
Dear girls, I have thought of a verse, but I have no writing-materials at hand.
PRIYAMVADÁ.
Write the letters with your nail on this lotus-leaf, which is smooth as a parrot's breast.
[S']AKOONTALÁ. [After writing the verse.