PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA [embracing her].—­Dear Sakoontala, remember, if the King should by any chance be slow in recognizing you, you have only to show him this ring, on which his own name is engraved.

SAKOONTALA.—­The bare thought of it puts me in a tremor.

PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA.—­There is no real cause for fear, dearest.  Excessive affection is too apt to suspect evil where none exists.

SARNGARAVA.—­Come, lady, we must hasten on.  The sun is rising in the heavens.

SAKOONTALA [looking towards the hermitage].—­Dear father, when shall I ever see this hallowed grove again?

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 spouse
    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.

GAUTAMI.—­Come, my child, the favorable 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.

KANWA.—­Daughter, detain me no longer.  My religious duties must not be interrupted.

SAKOONTALA [again embracing her foster-father].—­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 [sighing].—­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 sprung 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.

          [Exit Sakoontala with her escort.

PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA [gazing after Sakoontala].—­Alas! alas! she is gone, and now the trees hide our darling from our view.

KANWA [sighing].—­Well, Anasuya, your sister has departed.  Moderate your grief, both of you, and follow me.  I go back to the hermitage.

PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA.—­Holy father, the sacred grove will be a desert without Sakoontala.  How can we ever return to it?

KANWA.—­It is natural enough that your affection should make you view it
in this light. [Walking pensively on.] 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