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.

Shakuntala (approaches the vine and embraces it).  Vine sister, embrace me too with your arms, these branches.  I shall be far away from you after to-day.  Father, you must care for her as you did for me.

Kanva.

  My child, you found the lover who
  Had long been sought by me;
  No longer need I watch for you;
  I’ll give the vine a lover true,
  This handsome mango-tree.

And now start on your journey. Shakuntala (going to the two friends).  Dear girls, I leave her in your care too.

The two friends.  But who will care for poor us? (They shed tears.)

Kanva.  Anusuya!  Priyamvada!  Do not weep.  It is you who should cheer Shakuntala. (All walk about.)

Shakuntala.  Father, there is the pregnant doe, wandering about near the cottage.  When she becomes a happy mother, you must send some one to bring me the good news.  Do not forget.

Kanva.  I shall not forget, my child.

Shakuntala (stumbling) Oh, oh!  Who is it that keeps pulling at my dress, as if to hinder me? (She turns round to see.)

Kanva.

  It is the fawn whose lip, when torn
  By kusha-grass, you soothed with oil;
  The fawn who gladly nibbled corn
  Held in your hand; with loving toil
  You have adopted him, and he
  Would never leave you willingly.

Shakuntala.  My dear, why should you follow me when I am going away from home?  Your mother died when you were born and I brought you up.  Now I am leaving you, and Father Kanva will take care of you.  Go back, dear!  Go back! (She walks away, weeping.)

Kanva.  Do not weep, my child.  Be brave.  Look at the path before you.

  Be brave, and check the rising tears
  That dim your lovely eyes;
  Your feet are stumbling on the path
  That so uneven lies.

Sharngarava.  Holy Father, the Scripture declares that one should accompany a departing loved one only to the first water.  Pray give us your commands on the bank of this pond, and then return.

Kanva.  Then let us rest in the shade of this fig-tree. (All do so.) What commands would it be fitting for me to lay on King Dushyanta? (He reflects.)

Anusuya.  My dear, there is not a living thing in the whole hermitage that is not grieving to-day at saying good-bye to you.  Look!

  The sheldrake does not heed his mate
    Who calls behind the lotus-leaf;
  He drops the lily from his bill
    And turns on you a glance of grief.