King. Instruct me, my teacher.
Chaplain. Let the woman remain in my house until her child is born.
King. Why this?
Chaplain. The chief astrologers have told you that your first child was destined to be an emperor. If the son of the hermit's daughter is born with the imperial birthmarks, then welcome her and introduce her into the palace. Otherwise, she must return to her father.
King. It is good advice, my teacher.
Chaplain (rising). Follow me, my daughter.
Shakuntala. O mother earth, give me a grave! (Exit weeping, with the chaplain, the hermits, and GAUTAMI. The king, his memory clouded by the curse, ponders on SHAKUNTALA.)
Voices behind the scenes. A miracle! A miracle!
King (listening). What does this mean? (Enter the chaplain.)
Chaplain (in amazement). Your Majesty, a wonderful thing has happened.