[Moves on, weeping.
KANWA.
Weep not, my daughter, check the gathering tear
That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow
And weaken thy resolve; be firm and true—
True to thyself and me; the path of life
Will lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth,
And all must feel the steepness of the way;
Though rugged be thy course, press boldly on.
[S']ÁRNGARAVA.
Venerable Sire! the sacred precept is:—'Accompany thy friend as far as the margin of the first stream.' Here, then, we are arrived at the border of a lake. It is time for you to give us your final instructions and return.
KANWA.
Be it so; let us tarry for a moment under the shade of this fig-tree[69].
[They do so.
KANWA [Aside.
I must think of some appropriate message to send to his Majesty
King Dushyanta.