Vasantaka advances, stops to listen and turns back in alarm for he fancies a goblin in yonder Bakula tree.  The goblin turns out a starling.  The courtier remarks, “she says, give the Brahman something to eat.”  The king observes, “something to eat is ever the burden of the glutton’s song.  Come, say truly, what does she utter.  The friend listens and repeats, “Who is this you have delineated?  Do not be offended without cause; I have given your Kamadeva my Rati.  Why should you be ashamed?  Attachment to exalted worth becomes your native excellence.  Take away these lotus leaves and fibres—­it is in vain you strive to offer me relief.  I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my hopes;—­I am overcome with shame and despair, and death is my only refuge.”  The king interprets thus:—­“Oh, I suppose some female has been drawing her lover’s portrait, and passing it off on her companion as the picture of the god of love:  her friend has found her out; and ingeniously exposed her evasion, by delineating her in the character of Kama-deva’s bride.  The lady that is pictured is very handsome.  Some young female may be supposed to have spoken, indifferent to life, because uncertain of her affection being returned.  The delicate maid entrusts her companion with the sorrows of her breast:  the tattling parrot or imitative starling repeats her words, and they find an hospitable welcome in the ears of the fortunate.  The companion, laughing loudly, observes, “You may as well drop these evasive interpretations; why not say at once, “the damsel doubts my returning her passion.”  Who but yourself could have been delineated as the god of the flowery bow?”.

The friend claps his hands and laughs.  His obstreperous mirth frightens the bird away.  She perches on the plantain bower.  They follow her there.  Vasantaka finds a picture and shows it to the king, who gives him a golden bracelet.  Looking at it, the king dwells upon the beauties of the damsel.

Susangata and Sagarika hide themselves behind the plantain trees and overhear the conversation between the king and his companion.  Susangata remarks, “You are in luck, girl; your lover is dwelling upon your praises.  The bird, as I told you, has repeated our conversation.”  Sagarika thinks to herself, “What will he reply?  I hang between life and death.”  The king remarks farther to his companion, “My sight insatiate rests upon her graceful limbs and slender waist.  I cannot deny that she has flatteringly delineated my likeness, nor doubt her sentiments—­for observe the traces of the tear that has fallen upon her work, like the moist dew that starts from every pore of my frame.”  Sagarika says to herself, “Heart, be of good cheer! your passion is directed to a corresponding object.”  Susangata now comes forward, so as to be seen by Vasantaka.  At this the king, on the advice of his companion, covers the picture with his mantle.  Susangata says, “I am acquainted with the secret of the picture