Shakuntala approached King Dushyanta with deep reverence, her heart brimming with joy. Bowing her head, she honored the king as was proper, and then spoke to him with gentle words. “Bow to the king, your father, steadfast in his vows,” she said, addressing her son. With modesty, she stood before Dushyanta, her face lowered. Leaning lightly against a pillar, Shakuntala pleaded, “Be gracious,” and her son, too, greeted the king respectfully, his palms joined in salutation. The boy’s eyes shone wide with joy as he gazed at Dushyanta, but the king, his mind fixed on righteousness, considered carefully before speaking. He asked, “What is the purpose of your coming, O lady of beautiful complexion? Speak, for I will surely do whatever is needed, especially for you and your son.” Shakuntala replied, “Be gracious, O great king, and I will speak, O best of men. This son, O king, has been born to you from me, O subduer of foes. Therefore, let this son be consecrated by you as crown prince. And as was agreed in the hermitage, abide by that promise, O best of men. Previously, at our meeting, you gave your word. Remember, O mighty-armed one, what you promised at Kanva’s hermitage.” But Dushyanta, having become attached to the pleasures of the palace and the company of other women, had let Shakuntala and her son fade from his mind. Yet, as she stood before him, memories of Shakuntala and their child stirred within him. With a soft smile, he embraced them in his thoughts, and for a long moment, he felt a deep happiness. Even so, after hearing her words and recalling her presence, the king replied, “I do not remember our union, O gentle lady. I do not wish to act in vain; this is my resolve. I do not recall, O blessed one, any union with you. I do not remember any connection of righteousness, wealth, or desire with you. Go or stay as you wish, or do whatever else you desire.” At this, Shakuntala’s eyes reddened with anger and indignation, her lips quivered, and she cast a burning, sideways glance at the king. Yet, concealing her agitation, she restrained the power she had gained through her austerities. After a moment’s reflection—her heart full of grief and indignation—she looked at her husband and spoke with dignity: “Though you know, O great king, why do you speak in this way? Without hesitation you say you do not know, just as an ordinary man would. Your heart knows both truth and falsehood. Alas, you disregard your own self, the witness within, O blessed one. He who, being one thing, behaves as another—what sin has he not committed, like a thief who steals from his own self? You think you are alone, but you do not know the ancient sage in your heart, who knows all deeds of sin; in his presence, you commit wrong. “For righteousness alone is the cause of welfare for all the virtuous, always free from falsehood, and it does not bring sorrow. One may think, having done evil, ‘No one knows me,’ but the gods know, as does the inner soul. The sun, the moon, the wind, and fire; the sky, the earth, the waters, the heart, and Yama; day and night, both twilights, and Dharma—all know the conduct of a man. Yama, son of Vivasvat, dispenses punishment for evil deeds; the witness to his actions, the knower of the field who dwells in the heart, is pleased with the righteous. But if this inner witness is not pleased with a wicked man, then Yama reproaches that evildoer for his misdeeds. He who disregards his own self and acts otherwise—such a man, for whom even his own self is not a cause, does not attain the blessings of the gods. “Do not think of me as easily obtained, nor look down upon your devoted wife; though worthy of worship, you do not honor me, your wife, who stands before you. Why do you treat me like an ordinary woman in this assembly? Surely, I am not speaking these words in vain—why do you not listen to me? If you do not fulfill the words I, who am pleading with you, speak, O Dushyanta, then today your head will split into a hundred pieces. “When a husband unites with his wife and a child is born from her, that is truly her offspring—the ancient sages have declared this. When a son is born to a man who follows the proper path, that son, by his lineage, delivers his forefathers and ancestors. A son saves his father from the hell called Put, and therefore he is called ‘putra’—this was declared long ago by the Self-born. By a son, men conquer the worlds; by a grandson, they attain endlessness; and by the son of a grandson, great-grandfathers rejoice. “She is a wife who is skilled in the household, who bears children, whose life is devoted to her husband, who is faithful. A wife is half of a man; a wife is his best friend; a wife is the root of the three aims of life; he who has a wife is truly connected. Householders with wives perform their duties; those with wives are joyful; those with wives are endowed with prosperity. In solitude, wives are pleasant companions; in matters of duty, they are like fathers; in times of distress, they are like mothers. Who, on a journey, finds rest even in the wilderness? He who has a wife is to be trusted; therefore, a wife is the highest refuge. When a man is beset by difficulties and misfortune, it is only the devoted wife who always follows her husband. The wife, having departed first, waits for her husband after death; but if the husband dies first, she follows him thereafter.” Thus, with words full of meaning and truth, Shakuntala reminded Dushyanta of his duty, her own worth, and the sacred bond they shared.