Shakuntala.  Holy women, I salute you.

Gautami.  My child, may you receive the happy title “queen,” showing that your husband honours you.

Hermit-women.  My dear, may you become the mother of a hero. (Exeunt all but GAUTAMI.)

The two friends (approaching).  Did you have a good bath, dear?

Shakuntala.  Good morning, girls.  Sit here.

The two friends (seating themselves).  Now stand straight, while we go through the happy ceremony.

Shakuntala.  It has happened often enough, but I ought to be very grateful to-day.  Shall I ever be adorned by my friends again? (She weeps.)

The two friends.  You ought not to weep, dear, at this happy time.

(They wipe the tears away and adorn her.)

Priyamvada.  You are so beautiful, you ought to have the finest gems.  It seems like an insult to give you these hermitage things. (Enter HARITA, a hermit-youth with ornaments.) Harita.  Here are ornaments for our lady. (The women look at them in astonishment.)

Gautami.  Harita, my son, whence come these things?

Harita.  From the holy power of Father Kanva.

Gautami.  A creation of his mind?

Harita.  Not quite.  Listen.  Father Kanva sent us to gather blossoms from the trees for Shakuntala, and then

  One tree bore fruit, a silken marriage dress
  That shamed the moon in its white loveliness;
  Another gave us lac-dye for the feet;
  From others, fairy hands extended, sweet
  Like flowering twigs, as far as to the wrist,
  And gave us gems, to adorn her as we list.

Priyamvada (Looking at SHAKUNTALA).  A bee may be born in a hole in a tree, but she likes the honey of the lotus.

Gautami.  This gracious favour is a token of the queenly happiness which you are to enjoy in your husband’s palace. (SHAKUNTALA shows embarrassment.)

Harita.  Father Kanva has gone to the bank of the Malini, to perform his ablutions.  I will tell him of the favour shown us by the trees.

(Exit.)

Anusuya.  My dear, we poor girls never saw such ornaments.  How shall we adorn you? (She stops to think, and to look at the ornaments.) But we have seen pictures.  Perhaps we can arrange them right.

Shakuntala.  I know how clever you are. (The two friends adorn her.  Enter KANVA, returning after his ablutions.)

Kanva.

  Shakuntala must go to-day;
    I miss her now at heart;
  I dare not speak a loving word
  Or choking tears will start.

  My eyes are dim with anxious thought;
  Love strikes me to the life: 
  And yet I strove for pious peace—­
  I have no child, no wife.