[S']AKOONTALÁ.
My child, ask the deity that presides over thy destiny.
KING. [Falling at [S']AKOONTALÁ's feet.
Fairest of women, banish from thy mind
The memory of my cruelty; reproach
The fell delusion that o'erpowered my soul,
And blame not me, thy husband; 'tis the curse
Of him in whom the power of darkness[124] reigns,
That he mistakes the gifts of those he loves
For deadly evils. Even though a friend
Should wreathe a garland on a blind man's brow,
Will he not cast it from him as a serpent?
[S']AKOONTALÁ.
Rise, my own husband, rise. Thou wast not to blame. My own evil deeds, committed in a former state of being[37], brought down this judgment upon me. How else could my husband, who was ever of a compassionate disposition, have acted so unfeelingly?
[The KING rises.]
But tell me, my husband, how did the remembrance of thine unfortunate wife return to thy mind?
KING.
As soon as my heart's anguish is removed, and its wounds are healed, I will tell thee all.