im.

_King_. Did you ever see this happen to any one else?

_Both women_. More than once.

_King_ (_joyfully_). Then why may I not welcome my hopes fulfilled at
last? (_He embraces the boy_.)

_Second woman_. Come, Suvrata. Shakuntala is busy with her religious
duties. We must go and tell her what has happened. (_Exeunt ambo_.)

_Boy_. Let me go. I want to see my mother.

_King_. My son, you shall go with me to greet your mother.

_Boy_. Dushyanta is my father, not you.

_King_ (_smiling_). You show I am right by contradicting me. (_Enter_
SHAKUNTALA, _wearing her hair in a single braid_.)

_Shakuntala_ (_doubtfully_). I have heard that All-tamer's amulet did
not change when it should have done so. But I do not trust my own
happiness. Yet perhaps it is as Mishrakeshi told me. (_She walks
about_.)

_King_ (_looking at_ SHAKUNTALA. _With plaintive joy_). It is she. It
is Shakuntala.

The pale, worn face, the careless dress,
The single braid,
Show her still true, me pitiless,
The long vow paid.

_Shakuntala_ (_seeing the king pale with remorse. Doubtfully_). It is
not my husband. Who is the man that soils my boy with his caresses?
The amulet should protect him. _Boy_ (_running to his mother_).
Mother, he is a man that belongs to other people. And he calls me his
son.

_King_. My darling, the cruelty I showed you has turned to happiness.
Will you not recognise me?

_Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, my heart, believe it. Fate struck
hard, but its envy is gone and pity takes its place. It is my husband.

_King_.

Black madness flies;
Comes memory;
Before my eyes
My love I see.

Eclipse flees far;
Light follows soon;
The loving star
Draws to the moon.

_Shakuntala_. Victory, victo--(_Tears choke her utterance_.)

_King_.

The tears would choke you, sweet, in vain;
My soul with victory is fed,
Because I see your face again--
No jewels, but the lips are red.

_Boy_. Who is he, mother?

_Shakuntala_. Ask fate, my child. (_She weeps_.)

_King_.

Dear, graceful wife, forget;
Let the sin vanish;
Strangely did madness strive
Reason to banish.

Thus blindness works in men,
Love's joy to shake;
Spurning a garland, lest
It prove a snake. (_He falls at her feet_.)

_Shakuntala_. Rise, my dear husband. Surely, it was some old sin of
mine that broke my happiness--though it has turned again to happiness.
Otherwise, how could you, dear, have acted