to my heart
    These rankling wounds inflicted by the god,
    Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish
    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
    Shouldst 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, Sakoontala is passing her time under the shade of the bowers on the banks of the Malini, attended by her maidens.  I will go and look for her there. [Walking and looking about.] I suspect the fair one has but just passed by this avenue of young-trees.

    Here, as she tripped along, her fingers plucked
    The opening buds:  these lacerated plants,
    Shorn of their fairest blossoms by her hand,
    Seem like dismembered trunks, whose recent wounds
    Are still unclosed; while from the bleeding socket
    Of many a severed stalk, the milky juice
    Still slowly trickles, and betrays her path.

[Feeling a breeze.] What a delicious breeze meets me in this spot!

    Here may the zephyr, fragrant with the scent
    Of lotuses, and laden with the spray
    Caught from the waters of the rippling stream,
    Fold in its close embrace my fevered limbs.

[Walking and looking about.] She must be somewhere in the neighborhood of this arbor of overhanging creepers, enclosed by plantations of cane.
          [Looking down.]

    For at the entrance here I plainly see
    A line of footsteps printed in the sand. 
    Here are the fresh impressions of her feet;
    Their well-known outline faintly marked in front,
    More deeply towards the heel; betokening
    The graceful undulation of her gait.

I will peep through those branches. [Walking and looking.  With transport.] Ah! now my eyes are gratified by an entrancing sight.  Yonder is the beloved of my heart reclining on a rock strewn with flowers, and attended by her two friends.  How fortunate!  Concealed behind the leaves, I will listen to their conversation, without raising their suspicions. [Stands concealed, and gazes at them.]

Sakoontala and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands are discovered as described.