KANWA.--This day my loved one leaves me, and my heart Is heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice.

I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmed By the dark shadows of the thoughts that rise Within my soul. If such the force of grief In an old hermit parted from his nursling, What anguish must the stricken parent feel-- Bereft forever of an only daughter?

[_Advances towards Sakoontala_

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa.--Now, dearest Sakoontala, we have finished decorating you. You have only to put on the two linen mantles.

[_Sakoontala rises and puts them on_.

GAUTAMi.--Daughter, see, here comes thy foster-father; he is eager to fold thee in his arms; his eyes swim with tears of joy. Hasten to do him reverence.

SAKOONTALa [_reverently_].--My father, I salute you.

KANWA.--My daughter, May'st thou be highly honored by thy lord, E'en as Yayati Sarmishtha adored!

And, as she bore him Puru; so may'st thou Bring forth a son to whom the world shall bow!

GAUTAMi.--Most venerable father, she accepts your benediction as if she already possessed the boon it confers.

KANWA.--Now come this way, my child, and walk reverently round these sacrificial fires. [_They all walk round_.

KANWA [_repeats a prayer in the metre of the Rig-veda_].-- 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 Kusa-gra.s.s 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. [_Looking on one side_.]

Where are thy attendants, Sarngarava and the others?

YOUNG HERMIT [_entering_].--Here we are, most venerable father.

KANWA.--Lead the way for thy sister.

SaRNGARAVA.--Come, Sakoontala, let us proceed.

[_All move away_.

KANWA.--Hear me, ye trees that surround our hermitage!

Sakoontala ne'er moistened in the stream Her own parched lips, till she had fondly poured Its purest water on your thirsty roots; And oft, when she would fain have decked her hair With your thick-cl.u.s.tering blossoms, in her love She robbed you not e'en of a single flower.

Her highest joy was ever to behold The early glory of your opening buds: Oh, then, dismiss her with a kind farewell!

This very day she quits her father's home, To seek the palace of her wedded lord.

[_The note of a Koil is heard_.

Hark! heard'st thou not the answer of the trees, Our sylvan sisters, warbled in the note Of the melodious Koil? they dismiss Their dear Sakoontala with loving wishes.

VOICES [_in the air_].-- Fare thee well, journey pleasantly on amid streams Where the lotuses bloom, and the sun's glowing beams Never pierce the deep shade of the wide-spreading trees, While gently around thee shall sport the cool breeze; Then light be thy footsteps and easy thy tread, Beneath thee shall carpets of lilies be spread.

Journey on to thy lord, let thy spirit be gay, For the smiles of all Nature shall gladden thy way.

[_All listen with astonishment_.

GAUTAMi.--Daughter! the nymphs of the wood, who love thee with the affection of a sister, dismiss thee with kind wishes for thy happiness.

Take thou leave of them reverentially.

SAKOONTALa [_bowing respectfully and walking on. Aside to her friend_].--Eager as I am, dear Priyamvada, to see my husband once more, yet my feet refuse to move, now that I am quitting forever the home of my girlhood.

PRIYAMVADa.--You are not the only one, dearest, to feel the bitterness of parting. As the time of separation approaches, the whole grove seems to share your anguish.

In sorrow for thy loss, the herd of deer Forget to browse; the peac.o.c.k on the lawn Ceases its dance; the very trees around us Shed their pale leaves, like tears, upon the ground.

SAKOONTALa [_recollecting herself_].--My father, let me, before I go, bid adieu to my pet jasmine, the Moonlight of the Grove. I love the plant almost as a sister.

KANWA.--Yes, yes, my child, I remember thy sisterly affection for the creeper. Here it is on the right.

SAKOONTALa [_approaching the jasmine_],--My beloved jasmine, most brilliant of climbing plants, how sweet it is to see thee cling thus fondly to thy husband, the mango-tree; yet, prithee, turn thy twining arms for a moment in this direction to embrace thy sister; she is going far away, and may never see thee again.

KANWA.--Daughter, the cherished purpose of my heart Has ever been to wed thee to a spouse 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 favorite jasmine twines its loving arms Around the st.u.r.dy 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.

Proceed on thy journey, my child.

SAKOONTALa [_to Priyamvada and Anasuya_].--To you, my sweet companions, I leave it as a keepsake. Take charge of it when I am gone.

PRIYAMVADa AND ANASuYa [_bursting into tears_].--And to whose charge do you leave us, dearest? Who will care for us when you are gone?

KANWA.--For shame, Anasuya! dry your tears. Is this the way to cheer your friend at a time when she needs your support and consolation?

[_All move on_.

SAKOONTALa.--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.

KANWA.--I will not forget it.

SAKOONTALa [_feeling herself drawn back_].--What can this be, fastened to my dress? [_Turns round_.

KANWA.--My daughter, It is the little fawn, thy foster-child.

Poor helpless orphan! it remembers well How with a mother's tenderness and love Thou didst protect it, and with grains of rice From thine own hand didst daily nourish it; And, ever and anon, when some sharp thorn Had pierced its mouth, how gently thou didst tend The bleeding wound, and pour in healing balm.

The grateful nursling clings to its protectress, Mutely imploring leave to follow her.

SAKOONTALa.--My poor little fawn, dost thou ask to follow an unhappy woman who hesitates not to desert her companions? When thy mother died, soon after thy birth, I supplied her place, and reared thee with my own hand; and now that thy second mother is about to leave thee, who will care for thee? My father, be thou a mother to her. My child, go back, and be a daughter to my father. [_Moves on, weeping_.

KANWA.--Weep not, my daughter, check the gathering tear That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow And weaken thy resolve; be firm and true-- True to thyself and me; the path of life Will lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth, And all must feel the steepness of the way; Though rugged be thy course, press boldly on.

SaRNGARAVA.--Venerable sire! the sacred precept is--"Accompany thy friend as far as the margin of the first stream." Here then, we are arrived at the border of a lake. It is time for you to give us your final instructions and return.

KANWA.--Be it so; let us tarry for a moment under the shade of this fig-tree. [_They do so_.

KANWA [_aside_].--I must think of some appropriate message to send to his majesty King Dushyanta. [_Reflects._

SAKOONTALa [_aside to Anasuya_].--See, see, dear Anasuya, the poor female Chakravaka-bird, whom cruel fate dooms to nightly separation from her mate, calls to him in mournful notes from the other side of the stream, though he is only hidden from her view by the spreading leaves of the water-lily. Her cry is so piteous that I could almost fancy she was lamenting her hard lot in intelligible words.

ANASuYa.--Say not so, dearest.

Fond bird! though sorrow lengthen out her night Of widowhood, yet with a cry of joy She hails the morning light that brings her mate Back to her side. The agony of parting Would wound us like a sword, but that its edge Is blunted by the hope of future meeting.

KANWA.--Sarngarava, when you have introduced Sakoontala into the presence of the King, you must give him this message from me.

SaRNGARAVA.--Let me hear it, venerable father.

KANWA.--This is it-- 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 honorable 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.

SaRNGARAVA.--A most suitable message. I will take care to deliver it correctly.

KANWA.--And now, my child, a few words of advice for thee. We hermits, though we live secluded from the world, are not ignorant of worldly matters.