King. Wait a moment.
Portress (turning back). Yes, your Majesty. King. After all, what does it matter whether he have issue or not?
Let King Dushyanta be proclaimed
To every sad soul kin
That mourns a kinsman loved and lost,
Yet did not plunge in sin.
Portress. The proclamation shall be made. (She goes out and soon returns.) Your Majesty, the royal proclamation was welcomed by the populace as is a timely shower.
King (sighing deeply). Thus, when issue fails, wealth passes, on the death of the head of the family, to a stranger. When I die, it will be so with the glory of Puru's line.
Portress. Heaven avert the omen!
King. Alas! I despised the happiness that offered itself to me.
Mishrakeshi. Without doubt, he has dear Shakuntala in mind when he thus reproaches himself.
King.
Could I forsake the virtuous wife
Who held my best, my future life
And cherished it for glorious birth,
As does the seed-receiving earth?