KING [with rapture. Aside].—Joy! joy! Are then my dearest hopes to be fulfilled?
[Embraces the child.
SECOND ATTENDANT.—Come, my dear Suvratá, we must inform Śakoontalá immediately of this wonderful event, though we have to interrupt her in the performance of her religious vows.
[Exeunt.
CHILD [to the King].—Do not hold me. I want to go to my mother.
KING.—We will go to her together, and give her joy, my son.
CHILD.—Dushyanta is my father, not you.
KING [smiling].—His contradiction convinces me only the more.
Enter Śakoontalá, in widow's apparel, with her long hair twisted into a single braid.
ŚAKOONTALÁ [aside].—I have just heard that Sarva-damana's amulet has retained its form, though a stranger raised it from the ground. I can hardly believe in my good fortune. Yet why should not Sánumatí's prediction be verified?
KING [gazing at Śakoontalá].—Alas! can this indeed be my Śakoontalá?
Clad in the weeds of widowhood, her face
Emaciate with fasting, her long hair
Twined in a single braid, her whole demeanor
Expressive of her purity of soul:
With patient constancy she thus prolongs
The vow to which my cruelty condemned her.