"Kanwa: How, O my child, shall my bereaved heart Forget its bitterness, when, day by day, Full in my sight shall grow the tender plants Reared by thy care, or sprang from hallowed grain Which thy loved hands have strewn around the door— A frequent offering to our household gods? Go, my daughter, and may thy journey be prosperous."

"Gautami: Let me sprinkle you with this holy water, and all your ailments will depart. The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage."

"Priyamvadá and Anasúyá: Holy father, the sacred grove will be a desert without Sakoontalá. How can we ever return to it?"

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Oh my heart! thou didst fear to taste of happiness when it was within thy reach. Now that the object of thy desires is torn from thee, how bitter will be thy remorse, how distracting thine anguish!Farewell! bower of creepers, sweet soother of my sufferings, farewell! may I soon again be happy under thy shade."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Venerable mother, there is certainly a change for the better."

"Anasúyá: Although, dear Priyamvadá, it rejoices my heart to think that [S']akoontalá has been happily united to a husband in every respect worthy of her, by the form of marriage prevalent among Indra's celestial musicians, nevertheless, I cannot help feeling somewhat uneasy in my mind."

"Kanwa: It is natural enough that your affection should make you view it in this light. As for me, I am quite surprised at myself. Now that I have fairly dismissed her to her husband's house, my mind is easy; for, indeed, A daughter is a loan—a precious jewel Lent to a parent till her husband claim her. And now that to her rightful lord and master I have delivered her, my burdened soul Is lightened, and I seem to breathe more freely."

"Vátáyana, Chamberlain: Victory to the King! So please your Majesty, some hermits who live in a forest near the Snowy Mountains have arrived here, bringing certain women with them. They have a message to deliver from the sage Kanwa and desire an audience. I await your Majesty's commands."

"Kanwa: I will tell thee; listen:— When thou hast passed a long and blissful life As King Dushyanta's queen, and jointly shared With all the earth his ever-watchful care; And hast beheld thine own heroic son, Matchless in arms, united to a bride In happy wedlock; when his aged sire, Thy faithful husband, hath to him resigned The helm of state; then, weary of the world, Together with Dushyanta thou shalt seek The calm seclusion of thy former home; There amid holy scenes to be at peace, Till thy pure spirit gain its last release."

"King: I will leave thee when I have gently stolen from thy lips Their yet untasted nectar, to allay The raging of my thirst, e'en as the bee Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud."

"Gautamí: Come, my child, the favourable time for our journey is fast passing. Let thy father return. Venerable Sire, be thou the first to move homewards, or these last words will never end."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Leave me, leave me; I must take counsel with my female friends."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Dear father, when shall I ever see this hallowed grove again?"

"Kanwa: Daughter, detain me no longer. My religious duties must not be interrupted."

"Anasúyá: You know that the pious King was gratefully dismissed by the hermits on the successful termination of their sacrificial rites. He has now returned to his capital, leaving [S']akoontalá under our care; and it may be doubted whether, in the society of his royal consorts, he will not forget all that has taken place in this hermitage of ours."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Infringe not the rules of decorum, mighty descendant of Puru. Remember, though I love you, I have no power to dispose of myself."

"Pupil: While the round Moon withdraws his looming disc Beneath the western sky, the full-blown flower Of the night-loving lotus sheds her leave In sorrow for his loss, bequeathing nought But the sweet memory of her loveliness To my bereaved sight; e'en as the bride Disconsolately mourns her absent lord, And yields her heart a prey to anxious grief."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Beloved father, thy frame is much enfeebled by penitential exercises. Do not, oh! do not, allow thyself to sorrow too much on my account."

"Kanwa: Daughter, thy fears are groundless. Soon shall thy lord prefer thee to the rank Of his own consort; and unnumbered cares Befitting his imperial dignity Shall constantly engross thee. Then the bliss Of bearing him a son—a noble boy, Bright as the day-star, shall transport thy soul With new delights, and little shalt thou reck Of the light sorrow that afflicts thee now At parting from thy father and thy friends."

"King: Tell my domestic priest Somaráta to receive the hermits with due honour, according to the prescribed form. He may then himself introduce them into my presence. I will await them in a place suitable for the reception of such holy guests."

"Shárngarava: Is it becoming in a monarch to depart from the rules of justice, because he repents of his engagements?"

"King: And suppose another person touches it?"

"First Attendant: Then it instantly becomes a serpent, and bites him...."

"King: [After embracing the child, aside] Joy! joy! Are then my dearest hopes to be fulfilled?"

"King:[Aside]What! is his mother's name Shakoontalá? But the name is not uncommon among women. Alas! I fear the mere similarity of a name, like the deceitful vapour of the desert, has once more raised my hopes only to dash them to the ground."

"Second Attendant: Sarva-damana, Sarva-damana, see, see, what a beautiful Shakoonta (bird)."

"First Attendant: Alas! alas! I do not see the amulet on his wrist."

"Attendant: How could I think of polluting my lips by the mention of a wretch who had the cruelty to desert his lawful wife?"

"Shárngarava: A most suitable message! I will take care to deliver it correctly."

"King:[Aside] Ha! the description suits me exactly. Would I could bring myself to inquire the name of the child's mother!But it is against propriety to make too minute inquiries about the wife of another man."

"King: Don't distress yourself. Here it is. It fell off while he was struggling with the young lion."

"King:[Aside] What! are we, then, descended from the same ancestry? This, no doubt, accounts for the resemblance she traces between the child and me. Certainly it has always been an established usage among the princes of Puru's race, To dedicate the morning of their days To the world's weal, in palaces and halls, 'Mid luxury and regal pomp abiding; Then, in the wane of life, to seek release From kingly cares, and make the hallowed shade Of sacred trees their last asylum, where As hermits they may practise self-abasement, And bind themselves by rigid vows of penance."

"Kanwa: Holy flames, that gleam around Every altar's hallowed ground Holy flames, whose frequent food Is the consecrated wood, And for whose encircling bed, Sacred Kusha-grass is spread; Holy flames, that waft to heaven Sweet oblations daily given, Mortal guilt to purge away, Hear, oh hear me, when I pray— Purify my child this day! Now then, my daughter, set out on thy journey."

"King: But how could mortals by their own power gain admission to this sacred region?"

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Eager as I am, dear Priyamvadá, to see my husband once more, yet my feet refuse to move, now that I am quitting for ever the home of my girlhood."

"Priyamvadá to Anasúyá: She is far gone in love, dear Anasúyá, and no time ought to be lost. Since she has fixed her affections on a monarch who is the ornament of Puru's line, we need not hesitate for a moment to express our approval."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: Well, I will do my best; but my heart trembles when I think of the chances of a refusal....Listen, dear friends, and tell me whether the ideas are appropriately expressed. I know not the secret thy bosom conceals, Thy form is not near me to gladden my sight; But sad is the tale that my fever reveals, Of the love that consumes me by day and by night."

"Kanwa: Daughter, the cherished purpose of my heart Has ever been to wed thee to a man That should be worthy of thee; such a spouse Hast thou thyself, by thine own merits, won. To him thou goest, and about his neck Soon shalt thou cling confidingly, as now Thy favourite jasmine twines its loving arms Around the sturdy mango. Leave thou it To its protector—e'en as I consign Thee to thy lord, and henceforth from my mind Banish all anxious thought on thy behalf."

"Priyamvadá and Anasúyá: Welcome, the desire of our hearts, that so speedily presents itself!"

"King: But what, let me ask, was the name of the prince whom she deigned to honour with her hand?"

"King: Nay, Love does but warm thee, fair maiden,—thy frame Only droops like the bud in the glare of the noon; But me he consumes with a pitiless flame, As the beams of the day-star destroy the pale moon."

"Kanwa: Shárngarava! when you have introduced Sakoontalá into the presence of the King, you must give him this message from me:— Most puissant prince! we here present before thee One thou art bound to cherish and receive As thine own wife; yea, even to enthrone As thine own queen—worthy of equal love With thine imperial consorts. So much, Sire, We claim of thee as justice due to us, In virtue of our holy character, In virtue of thine honourable rank, In virtue of the pure spontaneous love That secretly grew up 'twixt thee and her, Without consent or privity of us. We ask no more—the rest we freely leave To thy just feeling and to destiny."

"SHAKOONTALÁ: My father, see you there my pet deer, grazing close to the hermitage? She expects soon to fawn, and even now the weight of the little one she carries hinders her movements. Do not forget to send me word when she becomes a mother."

"Child: My mother! Where? Let me go to her."

"King: Listen, gentle maiden, while in a few words I quiet your anxiety. Though many beauteous forms my palace grace, Henceforth two things alone will I esteem The glory of my royal dynasty— My sea-girt realm, and this most lovely maid."

"Gautami: My child, is the fever of thy limbs allayed?"

"King: Why this fear of offending your relations, timid maid? When your venerable foster-father hears of it, he will not find fault with you. He knows that the law permits us to be united without consulting him. In Indra's heaven, so at least 'tis said, No nuptial rites prevail, nor is the bride Led to the altar by her future lord; But all in secret does the bridegroom plight His troth, and each unto the other vow Mutual allegiance. Such espousals, too, Are authorised on earth, and many daughters Of royal saints thus wedded to their lords Have still received their father's benison."

"Attendant: Of the race of Puru."