Misr. [Aside.] How he afflicts himself! I really sympathize with him.
Mádh.—Surely some inhabitant of the heavens must have wafted her to his mansion.
Dushm. No; what male divinity would have taken the pains to carry off a wife so firmly attached to her lord? Ménacà, the nymph of Swerga, gave her birth; and some of her attendant nymphs have, I imagine, concealed her at the desire of her mother.
Misr. [Aside.] To reject Sacontalá was, no doubt, the effect of a delirium, not the act of a waking man.
Mádh. If it be thus, you will soon meet her again.
Dushm. Alas! why do you think so?
Mádh. Because no father and mother can long endure to see their daughter deprived of her husband.
Dushm. Was it sleep that impaired my memory? Was it delusion? Was it an error of my judgment? Or was it the destined reward of my bad actions? Whatever it was, I am sensible that, until Sacontalá return to these arms, I shall be plunged in the abyss of affliction.
Mádh. Do not despair: the fatal ring is itself an example that the lost may be found.—Events which were foredoomed by Heaven must not be lamented.
Dushm. [Looking at his ring.] The fate of this ring, now fallen from a station which it will
