Shakuntala. Ask fate, my child. (She weeps.)
King.
Dear, graceful wife, forget;
Let the sin vanish;
Strangely did madness strive
Reason to banish.Thus blindness works in men,
Love's joy to shake;
Spurning a garland, lest
It prove a snake. (He falls at her feet.)
Shakuntala. Rise, my dear husband. Surely, it was some old sin of mine that broke my happiness—though it has turned again to happiness. Otherwise, how could you, dear, have acted so? You are so kind. (The king rises.) But what brought back the memory of your suffering wife? King. I will tell you when I have plucked out the dart of sorrow.
'Twas madness, sweet, that could let slip
A tear to burden your dear lip;
On graceful lashes seen to-day,
(He does so.)
Shakuntala (sees more clearly and discovers the ring). My husband, it is the ring!
King. Yes. And when a miracle recovered it, my memory returned.
Shakuntala. That was why it was so impossible for me to win your confidence.
King. Then let the vine receive her flower, as earnest of her union with spring.
Shakuntala. I do not trust it. I would rather you wore it.