but once beheld, asylum.  Alas!  Why do I blame thee! the terror of Ananga’s shaft has rendered thee a fugitive;—­let me implore his pity.  Lord of the flowery bow, victor of demons and of gods! dost thou not blush to waste thy might upon a weak defenceless maiden, or art thou truly without form and sense?  Ah me, I fear my death impends, and this the fatal cause.”  She looks at the picture and goes on, “No one approaches; I will try and finish the likeness I am here attempting to portray.  My heart beats high, my hand trembles, yet I must try, and whilst occasion favours me, attempt to complete these lineaments, as the only means to retain them in my sight.”  She draws the picture, raising her head beholds her friend Susangata with a Sarika or talking bird in a cage, and hides the picture.  Susangata sits down, puts her hand upon the picture and asks, “who is this you have delineated?”

Sagarika answers, “The deity of the festival, Ananga.”  Susangata observes, “It is cleverly done, but there wants a figure to complete it.  Let me have it, and I will give the god his bride.”  She takes the paper and draws the likeness of Sagarika.  Sagarika expresses anger.  Her friend remarks, “Do not be offended without cause.  I have given your Kamadeva my Rati, that is all.  But come, away with disguise, and confess the truth.”  Seeing that her friend has discovered her secret, Sagarika is overcome with shame and entreats her to promise that no body else shall be made acquainted with her weakness.  Her friend replies, “why should you be ashamed?  Attachment to exalted worth becomes your native excellence.  But be assured I will not betray you; it is more likely this prattling bird will repeat our conversation.”  The friend brings some leaves and fibres of the lotus, and binds the former with the latter upon Sagarika’s bosom.  She exclaims, “Enough, enough, my friend, take away these leaves and fibres,—­it is vain to offer relief.  I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my hopes.  I am overcome with shame—­I am enslaved by passion—­my love is without return—­death, my only refuge.”  She faints and recovers after a short while.  A noise behind proclaims that a monkey has escaped from the stable, and, rattling the ends of his broken chain of gold, he clatters along.  Afraid of the advent of the monkey, they both rush to hide in the shade of a tamala grove, leaving the drawing behind.  The ape breaks the cage to get at the curds and rice and lets the Sarika fly.

Vasantaka now notices that the jasmine has been covered with countless buds, as if smiling disdainfully upon the queen’s favourite Madhavi.  He is surprised at the most marvellous power of the venerable Sri-Khanda-Dasa, a great sage come to court from Sri-Parvata, by whose simple will the strange event has happened.  He thinks of going to the king to inform his Majesty when the king appears.  He congratulates his Majesty, on his propitious fortune.  The king observes, “Inconceivable is the virtue of drugs, and charms, and gems.  Lead the way, and let these eyes this day obtain by the sight the fruit of their formation.”