Heighten the lustre of the cold-rayed moon;
This lovely maiden in her dress of bark
Seems all the lovelier. E'en the meanest garb
Gives to true beauty fresh attractiveness.

[S']AKOONTALÁ. [Looking before her.

Yon Ke[S']ara-tree[22] beckons to me with its young shoots, which,
as the breeze waves them to and fro, appear like slender fingers.
I will go and attend to it.

[_Walks towards it_.

PRIYAMVADÁ.

Dear [S']akoontalá, prithee, rest in that attitude one moment.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Why so?

PRIYAMVADÁ

The Ke[S']ara-tree, whilst your graceful form bends about its stem,
appears as if it were wedded to some lovely twining creeper.

[S']AKOONTALÁ.

Ah! saucy girl, you are most appropriately named Priyamvadá
('Speaker of flattering things').