Shakuntala. It has happened often enough, but I ought to be very grateful to-day. Shall I ever be adorned by my friends again? (She weeps.)
The two friends. You ought not to weep, dear, at this happy time. (They wipe the tears away and adorn her.)
Priyamvada. You are so beautiful, you ought to have the finest gems. It seems like an insult to give you these hermitage things. (Enter HARITA, a hermit-youth with ornaments.) Harita. Here are ornaments for our lady. (The women look at them in astonishment.)
Gautami. Harita, my son, whence come these things?
Harita. From the holy power of Father Kanva.
Gautami. A creation of his mind?
Harita. Not quite. Listen. Father Kanva sent us to gather blossoms from the trees for Shakuntala, and then
One tree bore fruit, a silken marriage dress
That shamed the moon in its white loveliness;
Another gave us lac-dye for the feet;
From others, fairy hands extended, sweet
Like flowering twigs, as far as to the wrist,
And gave us gems, to adorn her as we list.
Priyamvada (Looking at SHAKUNTALA). A bee may be born in a hole in a tree, but she likes the honey of the lotus.
Gautami. This gracious favour is a token of the queenly happiness which you are to enjoy in your husband's palace. (SHAKUNTALA shows embarrassment.)