VETRAVATI.—­It shall be so proclaimed.

          [Exit Vetravati, and reenter after an interval.

VETRAVATI.—­Your Majesty’s proclamation was received with acclamations of joy, like grateful rain at the right season.

KING [drawing a deep sigh].—­So then, the property of rich men, who have no lineal descendants, passes over to a stranger at their decease.  And such, alas! must be the fate of the fortunes of the race of Puru at my death; even as when fertile soil is sown with seed at the wrong season.

VETRAVATI.—­Heaven forbid!

KING.—­Fool that I was to reject such happiness when it offered itself for my acceptance!

SANUMATI [aside].—­He may well blame his own folly when he calls to mind his treatment of my beloved Sakoontala.

KING.—­Ah! woe is me? when I forsook my wife—­
    My lawful wife—­concealed within her breast
    There lay my second self, a child unborn,
    Hope of my race, e’en as the choicest fruit
    Lies hidden in the bosom of the earth.

SANUMATI [aside].—­There is no fear of your race being cut off for want of a son.

CHATURIKA [aside to Vetravati].—­The affair of the merchant’s death has quite upset our royal master, and caused him sad distress.  Had you not better fetch the worthy Mathavya from the Palace of Clouds to comfort him?

VETRAVATI.—­A very good idea. [Exit.

KING.—­Alas! the shades of my forefathers are even now beginning to be
alarmed, lest at my death they may be deprived of their funeral
libations. 
    No son remains in King Dushyanta’s place
    To offer sacred homage to the dead
    Of Puru’s noble line:  my ancestors
    Must drink these glistening tears, the last libation
    A childless man can ever hope to make them.
          [Falls down in an agony of grief.

CHATURIKA [looking at him in consternation].—­Great King, compose yourself.

SANUMATI [aside].—­Alas! alas! though a bright light is shining near him, he is involved in the blackest darkness, by reason of the veil that obscures his sight.  I will now reveal all, and put an end to his misery.  But no; I heard the mother of the great Indra, when she was consoling Sakoontala, say, that the gods will soon bring about a joyful union between husband and wife, being eager for the sacrifice which will be celebrated in their honor on the occasion.  I must not anticipate the happy moment, but will return at once to my dear friend and cheer her with an account of what I have seen and heard.
          [Rises aloft and disappears.

A VOICE [behind the scenes].—­Help! help! to the rescue!

KING [recovering himself.  Listening].—­Ha!  I heard a cry of distress, and in Mathavya’s voice.  What ho there!

VETRAVATI [entering].—­Your friend is in danger; save him, great King.