The trees are answering your prayer
In cooing cuckoo-song,
Bidding Shakuntala farewell,
Their sister for so long.
Invisible beings,
May lily-dotted lakes delight your eye;
May shade-trees bid the heat of noonday cease;
May soft winds blow the lotus-pollen nigh;
May all your path be pleasantness and peace.
(All listen in astonishment.)
Gautami. My child, the fairies of the pious grove bid you farewell. For they love the household. Pay reverence to the holy ones.
Shakuntala (does so. Aside to PRIYAMVADA). Priyamvada, I long to see my husband, and yet my feet will hardly move. It is hard, hard to leave the hermitage.
Priyamvada. You are not the only one to feel sad at this farewell. See how the whole grove feels at parting from you.
The grass drops from the feeding doe;
The peahen stops her dance;
Pale, trembling leaves are falling slow,
The tears of clinging plants.
Shakuntala (recalling something). Father, I must say good-bye to the spring-creeper, my sister among the vines.
Kanva. I know your love for her. See! Here she is at your right hand.