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with sorrow, even while the return of spring fills the hearts of all others with pleasure.

Mádh. Be still, my friend, whilst I break Love's arrows with my staff.

[He strikes off some flowers from an Amra tree.

Dushm. [Meditating.] Yes, I acknowledge the supreme power of Brahmà—[To Mádhavya.] Where now, my friend, shall I sit and recreate my sight with the slender shrubs which bear a faint resemblance to the shape of Sacontalá?

Mádh. You will soon see the damsel skilled in painting, whom you informed that you would spend the forenoon in yon bower of Mádhavì creepers; and she will bring the queen's picture which you commanded her to draw.

Dushm. My soul will be delighted even by her picture.—Show the way to the bower.

Mádh. This way my friend.—[They both advance, Misracésì following them.]—The arbour of twining Mádhavìs, embellished with fragments of stone like bright gems, appears by its pleasantness, though without a voice, to bid thee welcome.—Let us enter it, and be seated.

[They both sit down in the bower.

Misr. [Aside.] From behind these branchy shrubs I shall behold the picture of my Sacontalá.—I will afterwards hasten to report the sincere affection of her husband.

[She conceals herself.

Dushm. [Sighing.] O my approved friend, the whole adventure of the hermitage is now fresh in my memory.—I informed you how deeply I was affected by the first sight of the