Again
Behold us brought together by the grace
Of the great lord of Heaven. So the moon
Shines forth from dim eclipse, to blend his rays
With the soft lustre of his Rohini.
SAKOONTALA.--May my husband be victorious------
[_She stops short, her voice choked with tears._
KING.--O fair one, though the utterance of thy prayer
Be lost amid the torrent of thy tears,
Yet does the sight of thy fair countenance,
And of thy pallid lips, all unadorned
And colorless in sorrow for my absence,
Make me already more than conqueror.
CHILD.--Mother, who is this man?
SAKOONTALA.--My child, ask the deity that presides over thy destiny.
KING [_falling at Sakoontala's feet_].--Fairest of women, banish from
thy mind
The memory of my cruelty; reproach
The fell delusion that overpowered my soul,
And blame not me, thy husband; 'tis the curse
Of him in whom the power of darkness reigns,
That he mistakes the gifts of those he loves
For deadly evils. Even though a friend
Should wreathe a garland on a blind man's brow,
Will he not cast it from him as a serpent?
SAKOONTALA.
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