The noble king Dushyanta, having come to the hermitage, spoke with gentle firmness to Shakuntala, declaring, “For Kshatriyas, Gandharva and Rakshasa forms of marriage are righteous—there is no doubt about this. Whether separately or together, they are permitted. Therefore, O beautiful one, since you desire me as I desire you, you are worthy to become my wife by the Gandharva rite.” Shakuntala, radiant and composed, replied, “If righteousness truly guides you, and if you are master of yourself, then, O best of the Purus, listen to the condition I set for this union. Swear to me sincerely, as I speak these words in private: the son born of me shall be your immediate successor. He must be the crown prince, O great king—if you accept this, O Dushyanta, let our marriage take place.” Dushyanta, lord among men, agreed to her every word and, with warmth, said, “Tell me whatever else your heart desires.” Shakuntala continued, “This, as is well known in the world, is the marriage prescribed by scripture; the wise praise it as beneficial. Yet, to quell any public doubts, let us perform the marriage according to proper rites. Here are sacrificial vessels, darbha grass, flowers, and unbroken grains. As the marriage is properly performed, so will our offspring be proper. Therefore, offer ghee, sacrificial grains, and sand, O Brahmana, for you. All the other rites are here, O king. Even if harsh words are spoken, let them be forgiven for the sake of righteousness.” “So be it,” replied the king without hesitation. Yet, he added gently, “Pure-smiling one, I will not take you to my city just now. You are worthy, O lovely-hipped one, and so I speak to you.” With these words, the royal sage addressed her, who was blameless in conduct. He summoned the priest and said with resolve, “What the princess has said, I cannot disregard. My illustrious son should not be without the proper rite. Therefore, perform the marriage as prescribed in the scriptures—do not delay.” Thus commanded, the twice-born priest, though constrained by the circumstances, performed the splendid royal marriage rite according to tradition. At the command of the foremost Brahmin, with auspicious rituals and festivities completed, Dushyanta took Shakuntala’s hand in accordance with custom, and they dwelt together as husband and wife. Trusting her, the king prepared to depart, assuring her, “For your sake, I will send a fourfold army. Accompanied by elders versed in the three Vedas, royal kinsmen, and thousands of palanquins, we relatives will come. Mute people, Kiratas, hunchbacks, dwarfs, those in fine tunics, charioteers, and bards—together with the sound of conches and drums, the procession will reach the forest. Thus, O pure-smiling one, I will bring you to my city. Otherwise, I will not take you to my abode. With all auspicious hospitality, I pledge this to you in truth.” Having spoken thus, the royal sage embraced Shakuntala, who was blameless and gentle in conduct, and looked at her with a smile. Circumambulating her, he embraced her again. Shakuntala, her face lovely and modest, fell at his feet. Raising her tenderly, Dushyanta reassured her, “Do not grieve. I swear by my good deeds, O daughter of the king, I will bring you.” With these promises, King Dushyanta departed, his mind filled with thoughts, as he made his way toward the sage Kashyapa. The blessed king, engaged in contemplation, wondered, “I have come and gone without properly appeasing the great sage—will the eminent Brahmin be pleased?” Thus pondering, he entered his own city. Shortly thereafter, the venerable Kanva returned to the hermitage. Shakuntala, overwhelmed with modesty, did not approach her father at once. Hesitant and anxious, she slowly drew near the sage, took his burden, and prepared a seat for him. She washed the great-souled Kashyapa’s feet, but, out of bashfulness, could not meet his gaze. Shakuntala, bashful and silent, refrained from speaking to the sage, for she felt she had strayed from her duty. Seeing fault in herself, and restrained by her vow of celibacy, she was overcome with modesty. Observing her demeanor, the sage addressed her kindly, “Even though you are bashful, you will live long as before. Tell me what has happened, O slender-thighed one, and do not be afraid.” After washing his feet, Shakuntala served the resting sage with roots and fruits, as he wished. Then, after massaging his feet, she withdrew. Though weary, she spoke with gentle hesitation, her pure smile shining through her modesty, “Father, King Dushyanta, son of Ilila, has come here. He, whom I accepted as husband by divine ordination, has arrived. Therefore, father, be gracious; my husband is of great fame. By your divine insight, you know all that has happened.” Kashyapa, by his divine vision, perceived all that had transpired. Recognizing her righteousness and unwavering devotion to duty, the blessed and greatly austere sage, pleased, spoke of what had occurred. “So it is—I have known and seen all this with my divine sight—what you have done today, even though you did not first consult me, for the sake of the royal lineage.