rowse; the peacock on the lawn
Ceases its dance; the very trees around us
Shed their pale leaves, like tears, upon the ground.

SAKOONTALA [_recollecting herself_].--My father, let me, before I go,
bid adieu to my pet jasmine, the Moonlight of the Grove. I love the
plant almost as a sister.

KANWA.--Yes, yes, my child, I remember thy sisterly affection for the
creeper. Here it is on the right.

SAKOONTALA [_approaching the jasmine_],--My beloved jasmine, most
brilliant of climbing plants, how sweet it is to see thee cling thus
fondly to thy husband, the mango-tree; yet, prithee, turn thy twining
arms for a moment in this direction to embrace thy sister; she is going
far away, and may never see thee again.

KANWA.--Daughter, the cherished purpose of my heart
Has ever been to wed thee to a spouse
That should be worthy of thee; such a spouse
Hast thou thyself, by thine own merits, won.
To him thou goest, and about his neck
Soon shalt thou cling confidingly, as now
Thy favorite jasmine twines its loving arms
Around the sturdy mango. Leave thou it
To its protector--e'en as I consign
Thee to thy lord, and henceforth from my mind
Banish all anxious thought on thy behalf.
Proceed on thy journey, my child.

SAKOONTALA [_to Priyamvada and Anasuya_].--To you, my sweet companions,
I leave it as a keepsake. Take charge of it when I am gone.

PRIYAMVADA AND ANASUYA [_bursting into tears_].--And to whose charge do
you leave us, dearest? Who will care for us when you are gone?

KANWA.--For shame, Anasuya! dry your tears. Is this the way to cheer
your friend at a time when she needs your support and consolation?
[_All move on_.

SAKOONTALA.--My father, see you there my pet deer, grazing close to the
hermitage? She expects soon to fawn, and even now the weight of the
little one she carries hinders her movements. Do not forget to send me
word when she becomes a mother.

KANWA.--I will not forget it.

SAKOONTALA [_feeling herself drawn back_].--What can this be, fastened
to my dress? [_Turns round_.

KANWA.--My daughter,
It is the little fawn, thy foster-child.
Poor helpless orphan! it remembers well
How with a mother's tenderness and love
Thou didst protect it, and with grains of rice
From thine own hand didst daily nourish it;
And, ever and anon, when some sharp thorn
Had pierced its mouth, how gently thou didst tend
Th