One day, in the course of these wanderings, she paused beneath a banyan tree, where a blind old hermit had taken up his abode.

He was just telling the princess that he dwelt there with his wife and son, when a young man appeared, bringing wood for the sacrifice.

This youth was Satyavan, his son, who was duly astonished to behold a lovely princess.
On returning home, Savitri informed her father her choice was made, for she had decided to marry the hermit's son! This news appalled the king, because the prime minister assured him Satyavan--although son of a banished king--was doomed to die at the end of the year.
Knowing the unenviable lot of a Hindu widow, the king implored Savitri to choose another mate, but the girl refused, insisting she would rather live one year with Satyavan than spend a long life with any one else! But Savitri replied: "Once falls a heritage; once a maid yields Her maidenhood; once doth a father say, 'Choose, I abide thy choice.' These three things done, Are done forever.

Be my prince to live A year, or many years; be he so great As Narada hath said, or less than this; Once have I chosen him, and choose not twice: My heart resolved, my mouth hath spoken it, My hand shall execute;--this is my mind!" -- _Edwin Arnold._ So the marriage took place, and, because the hermit and his son had vowed to remain in the jungle until reinstated in their realm, the princess dwelt in their humble hut, laying aside her princely garments and wearing the rough clothes hermits affect.
In spite of poverty, this little family dwelt happily beneath the huge banyan tree, the princess rigidly keeping the secret that her husband had but a year to live.

Time passed all too swiftly, however, and as the year drew toward an end the little wife grew strangely pale and still, fasted constantly, and spent most of her time praying that the doom of death might be averted.