nounced a curse which should cause her to be entirely forgotten by her lover, who could recognise her only by means of a ring.
The king having meanwhile married Çakuntalā and returned home, the sage Kaṇva has resolved to send her to her husband. The way in which Çakuntalā takes leave of the sacred grove in which she has been brought up, of her flowers, her gazelles, and her friends, is charmingly described in the fourth act. This is the act which contains the most obvious beauties; for here the poet displays to the full the richness of his fancy, his abundant sympathy with Nature, and a profound knowledge of the human heart.
A young Brahman pupil thus describes the dawning of the day on which Çakuntalā is to leave the forest hermitage—
- On yonder side the moon, the Lord of Plants,
- Sinks down behind the western mountain's crest;
- On this, the sun preceded by the dawn
- Appears: the setting and the rise at once
- Of these two orbs the symbols are of man's
- Own fluctuating fortunes in the world.
Then he continues—
- The moon has gone; the lilies on the lake,
- Whose beauty lingers in the memory,
- No more delight my gaze: they droop and fade;
- Deep is their sorrow for their absent lord.
The aged hermit of the grove thus expresses his feelings at the approaching loss of Çakuntalā—
- My heart is touched with sadness at the thought
- "Çakuntalā must go to-day"; my throat
- Is choked with flow of tears repressed; my sight
- Is dimmed with pensiveness; but if the grief
