Assuredly, Śankhachúda has worthily repaid his benefactor! In what way, now, shall I put an end to myself? But I must first revive these two. Revive, my father! Cheer up, O mother!
Queen.
Stand up, my child. Do not weep. Shall we live without Jímútaváhana? Cheer up, then.
Malayavatí (recovering).
O husband! where shall I see you again?
King.
Alas! O my child, who knew so well how to perform the duty of honouring thy father's feet, even in another world the practice of good behaviour is not forgotten by thee, since thou hast dropped thy crest-jewel at my feet. (Takes up the crest-jewel.) Alas! my child, is it only in this way that I can now behold thee? (Puts it to his breast.) Alas! Alas! O thou, whose head was continually bowed at my feet in constant devotion, thy crest-jewel, polished by their contact as by a touchstone, was never guilty of injuring any one; why, then, does it now rudely pierce my breast?
Queen.
Alas! my son Jímútaváhana, whose only pleasure was in obedience to thy father, how could'st thou leave him, and go to enjoy the delights of heaven?
King (with tears).
O queen! can we live without Jímútaváhana, that you talk thus?
