--Alas! can this indeed be my Sakoontala?
Clad in the weeds of widowhood, her face
Emaciate with fasting, her long hair
Twined in a single braid, her whole demeanor
Expressive of her purity of soul:
With patient constancy she thus prolongs
The vow to which my cruelty condemned her.
SAKOONTALA [_gazing at the King, who is pale with remorse_]. Surely this
is not like my husband; yet who can it be that dares pollute by the
pressure of his hand my child, whose amulet should protect him from a
stranger's touch?
CHILD [_going to his mother_].--Mother, who is this man that has been
kissing me and calling me his son?
KING.--My best beloved, I have indeed treated thee most cruelly, but am
now once more thy fond and affectionate lover. Refuse not to acknowledge
me as thy husband.
SAKOONTALA [_aside_].--Be of good cheer, my heart. The anger of Destiny
is at last appeased. Heaven regards thee with compassion. But is he in
very truth my husband?
KING.--Behold me, best and loveliest of women,
Delivered from the cloud of fatal darkness
That erst oppressed my memory.
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