a Prince like thee,
Right worthy is it of thine ancestry.
Thy guerdon be a son of peerless worth,
Whose wide dominion shall embrace the earth.

BOTH THE OTHER HERMITS [_raising their hands_].--May heaven indeed grant
thee a son, a sovereign of the earth from sea to sea!

KING [_bowing._]--I accept with gratitude a Brahman's benediction.

HERMIT.--We came hither, mighty Prince, to collect sacrificial wood.
Here on the banks of the Malini you may perceive the hermitage of the
great sage Kanwa. If other duties require not your presence, deign to
enter and accept our hospitality.
When you behold our penitential rites
Performed without impediment by Saints
Rich only in devotion, then with pride
Will you reflect, Such are the holy men
Who call me Guardian; such the men for whom
To wield the bow I bare my nervous arm,
Scarred by the motion of the glancing string.

KING.--Is the Chief of your Society now at home?

HERMIT.--No; he has gone to Soma-tirtha to propitiate Destiny, which
threatens his daughter Sakoontala with some calamity; but he has
commissioned her in his absence to entertain all guests with
hospitality.

KING.--Good! I will pay her a visit. She will make me acquainted with
the mighty sage's acts of penance and devotion.

HERMIT.--And we will depart on our errand.
[_Exit with his companions_.

KING.--Charioteer, urge on the horses. We will at least purify our souls
by a sight of this hallowed retreat.

CHARIOTEER.--Your Majesty is obeyed.
[_Drives the chariot with great velocity_.

KING [_looking all about him_].--Charioteer, even without being told, I
should have known that these were the precincts of a grove consecrated
to penitential rites.

CHARIOTEER.--How so?

KING.--Do not you observe?
Beneath the trees, whose hollow trunks afford
Secure retreat to many a nestling brood
Of parrots, scattered grains of rice lie strewn.
Lo! here and there are seen the polished slabs
That serve to bruise the fruit of Ingudi.
The gentle roe-deer, taught to trust in man,
Unstartled hear our voices. On the paths
Appear the traces of bark-woven vests
Borne dripping from the limpid fount of waters.
And mark! Laved are the roots of trees by deep canals,
Whose glassy waters tremble in the breeze;
The sprouting verdure of the leaves is dimmed
By dusky wreaths of upward curling smoke
From burnt ob