YOUNG HERMIT. [Entering.
Here we are, most venerable father.
KANWA.
Lead the way for thy sister.
[S']ÁRNGARAVA.
Come, [S']akoontalá, let us proceed.
[All move away.
KANWA.
Hear me, ye trees that surround our hermitage!
[S']akoontalá 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-clustering 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 Koïl[66] is heard.