King (stopping his ears).  Peace, peace!

  A stream that eats away the bank,
  Grows foul, and undermines the tree. 
  So you would stain your honour, while
  You plunge me into misery.

Shakuntala.  Very well.  If you have acted so because you really fear to touch another man’s wife, I will remove your doubts with a token you gave me.

King.  An excellent idea!

Shakuntala (touching her finger).  Oh, oh!  The ring is lost. (She looks sadly at GAUTAMI.)

Gautami.  My child, you worshipped the holy Ganges at the spot where Indra descended.  The ring must have fallen there.

King.  Ready wit, ready wit!

Shakuntala.  Fate is too strong for me there.  I will tell you something else.

King.  Let me hear what you have to say.

Shakuntala.  One day, in the bower of reeds, you were holding a lotus-leaf cup full of water.

King.  I hear you.

Shakuntala.  At that moment the fawn came up, my adopted son.  Then you took pity on him and coaxed him.  “Let him drink first,” you said.  But he did not know you, and he would not come to drink water from your hand.  But he liked it afterwards, when I held the very same water.  Then you smiled and said:  “It is true.  Every one trusts his own sort.  You both belong to the forest.”

King.  It is just such women, selfish, sweet, false, that entice fools. Gautami.  You have no right to say that.  She grew up in the pious grove.  She does not know how to deceive.

King.  Old hermit woman,

  The female’s untaught cunning may be seen
  In beasts, far more in women selfish-wise;
  The cuckoo’s eggs are left to hatch and rear
  By foster-parents, and away she flies.

Shakuntala (angrily).  Wretch!  You judge all this by your own false heart.  Would any other man do what you have done?  To hide behind virtue, like a yawning well covered over with grass!

King (to himself).  But her anger is free from coquetry, because she has lived in the forest.  See!

  Her glance is straight; her eyes are flashing red;
  Her speech is harsh, not drawlingly well-bred;
  Her whole lip quivers, seems to shake with cold;
  Her frown has straightened eyebrows arching bold.

No, she saw that I was doubtful, and her anger was feigned.  Thus

  When I refused but now
  Hard-heartedly, to know
  Of love or secret vow,
  Her eyes grew red; and so,
  Bending her arching brow,
  She fiercely snapped Love’s bow.

(Aloud.) My good girl, Dushyanta’s conduct is known to the whole kingdom, but not this action.

Shakuntala.  Well, well.  I had my way.  I trusted a king, and put myself in his hands.  He had a honey face and a heart of stone. (She covers her face with her dress and weeps.)