Reading section 2

NALA _spake_.

To the bower of Damayanti--on your solemn mission sent, Entered I the lofty portal--by the aged warders watched; Mortal eye might not behold me--there as swift I entered in; None save that fair raja's daughter--through your all prevailing power. And her virgin handmaids, saw I--and by them in turn was seen; And they all in mute amazement--gazed upon me as I stood. I described your godlike presence--but the maid with beauteous face Chooses me, bereft of reason--O most excellent of gods! Thus she spake, that maiden princess,--"Let the gods together come, Come with thee, Oh king of mortals,--where the Swayembara meets; There will I, before their presence--choose thee, raja, for my lord. So to thee, O strong armed warrior--may no blame, no fault ensue." Thus it was, even as I tell you--word for word did it befall. Plainly have I spoke, the judgment--rests with you, of gods the chief!

BOOK V.

Came the day of happy omen[42]--moonday meet, and moment apt; Bhima to the Swayembara--summoned all the lords of earth. One and all, upon the instant--rose th' enamoured lords of earth, Suitors all to Damayanti--in their loving haste they came. They, the court with golden columns[43]--rich, and glittering portal arch, Like the lions on the mountains--entered they the hall of state. There the lords of earth were seated--each upon his several throne; All their fragrant garlands wearing--all with pendant ear-gems rich. Arms were seen robust and vigorous--as the ponderous battle mace, Some like the five-headed serpents--delicate in shape and hue:[44] With bright locks profuse and flowing--fine formed nose, and eye and brow, Shone the faces of the rajas--like the radiant stars in heaven. As with serpents, Bhogavati[45]--the wide hall was full of kings; As the mountain caves with tigers--with the tiger-warriors full. Damayanti in her beauty--entered on that stately scene, With her dazzling light entrancing--every eye and every soul. O'er her lovely person gliding--all the eyes of those proud kings; There were fixed, there moveless rested--as they gazed upon the maid. Then as they proclaimed the rajas--(by his name was each proclaimed) In dismay saw Bhima's daughter--five in garb, in form the same. On those forms, all undistinguished--each from each, she stood and gazed. In her doubt Vidarbha's princess--Nala's form might not discern,[46] Whichsoe'er the form she gazed on--him her Nala, him she thought. She within her secret spirit--deeply pondering, stood and thought: "How shall I the gods distinguish?--royal Nala how discern?" Pondering thus Vidarbha's maiden--in the anguish of her heart-- Th' attributes of the immortals--sought, as heard of yore, to see. "Th' attributes of each celestial--that our aged sires describe, As on earth they stand before me--not of one may I discern." Long she pondered in her silence--and again, again she thought. To the gods, her only refuge--turned she at this trying hour. With her voice and with her spirit--she her humble homage paid. Folding both her hands and trembling--to the gods the maiden spake: "As when heard the swan's sweet language--chose I then Nishadha's king, By this truth I here adjure ye--oh, ye gods, reveal my lord; As in word or thought I swerve not--from my faith, all-knowing powers, By this truth I here adjure ye--oh, ye gods, reveal my lord. As the gods themselves have destined--for my lord Nishadha's king; By this truth I here adjure ye--oh, ye gods, my lord reveal. As my vow, so pledged to Nala--holily must be maintained, By this truth I here adjure ye--oh, ye gods, my lord reveal. Each the form divine assume ye--earth's protectors, mighty lords; So shall I discern my Nala--I shall know the king of men." As they heard sad Damayanti--uttering thus her piteous prayer, At her high resolve they wonder--steadfast truth and fervent love, Holiness of soul, and wisdom--to her lord her constant faith. As she prayed, the gods obedient--stood with attributes revealed: With unmoistened skins the Immortals--saw she, and with moveless eyes;[47] Fresh their dust-unsullied garlands--hovered they, nor touched the earth. On his shadow garland-drooping[48]--soiled with dust and moist with sweat, On the earth

Nishadha's monarch--stood confessed, with twinkling eyes; On the gods an instant gazed she--then upon the king of men; And of right king Bhima's daughter--named Nishadha's king her lord. Modestly the large-eyed maiden--lifted up his garment's hem, Round his shoulders threw she lightly--the bright zone of radiant flowers; So she chose him for her husband--Nala, that high-hearted maid. Then alas! alas! burst wildly,--from that conclave of the kings, And "well done, well done," as loudly--from the gods and sages broke; All in their extatic wonder--glorified Nishadha's king. Then to royal Damayanti--Virasena's kingly son, To that slender waisted damsel--spake he comfort in his joy; "Since thou'st own'd me for thine husband--in the presence of the gods, For thy faithful consort know me--aye delighting in thy words. While this spirit fills this body--maiden with the smile serene! Thine am I, so long thine only--this the solemn truth I vow." Thus he gladdened Damayanti--with the assurance of his faith; And the happy pair devoutly[49]--worshipped then the present gods. Chosen thus Nishadha's monarch--the bright guardians of the world, In their gladness all on Nala--eight transcendant gifts bestowed; To discern the visible godhead--in the sacrifice, a gait Firm and noble, Sachi's husband--Indra to king Nala gave. Agni gave his own bright presence[50]--whensoe'er the monarch called. All the worlds instinct with splendour--through his power Hutasa gave. Subtle taste in food gave Yama--and in virtue eminence; Varun gave obedient water--to be present at his call; Garlands too of matchless fragrance;--each his double blessing gave.[51] Thus bestowed their gracious favours--to the heavens the gods returned; And the rajas, who with wonder--Nala's marriage saw confirmed With the gentle Damayanti--as they came, in joy returned. Thus the kings of earth departed;--Bhima in his joy and pride, Solemnized the stately bridals--of the maiden and the king. Fitting time when there he'd sojourned,--best of men, Nishadha's king; Courteous parting with king Bhima--to his native city went. Having gained the pearl of women--the majestic lord of earth Lived in bliss, as with his Sachi,[52]--he that those old giants slew. In his joy the elated monarch--shining radiant as the sun, Ruled the subjects of his kingdom--with a just and equal sway. Of the horse the famous offering[53]--like Nahucha's mighty son, Every sacrifice performed he--with rich gifts to holy men. And full oft in flowering gardens--and delicious shady groves, Like a god, the royal Nala--took with Damayanti joy. So begat from Damayanti--Nala, of heroic soul, Indrasena one fair daughter--Indrasen one beauteous son. Thus in sacrifice and pleasance--took his joy the king of men, So the earth with riches teeming--ruled the sovereign of the earth.

BOOK VI.

Nala, chosen by Bhima's daughter--the bright guardians of the world, As they parted thence, with Kali[54]--Dwapara approaching saw. Kali as he saw, did Indra--did the giant-killer say, "Here, with Dwapara attended--whither, Kali, dost thou go?" Kali spake, "the Swayembara--we of Damayanti seek; Her I go to make my consort--into her mine heart hath passed." "Closed and ended is that bridal,"--Indra answered with a smile, "Nala she hath chosen for husband--in the presence of us all." Thus addressed by Indra, Kali--in the transport of his wrath, All the heavenly gods saluting,--thus his malediction spake, "Since before the Immortals' presence--she a mortal spouse did choose, Of her impious crime most justly--heavy be the penal doom." Kali hardly thus had spoken--than the heaven-born gods replied: "With our full and liberal sanction--Damayanti chose her lord. Who to Nala, with all virtue--rich endowed, would not incline? He that rightly knows each duty--he who ever rightly acts, He who reads the whole four Vedas--the Puranas too the fifth,[55] In his palace with pure offerings--ever are the gods adored, Gentle to all living creatures--true in word and strict in vow; Good and constant he, and generous--holy, temperate, patient, pure; His are all these virtues ever--equal to the earth-guarding gods. Thus endowed, the noble Nala--he, O Kali, that would curse, On himself recoil his curses--only fatal to himself. Nala, gifted with such virtues--he, O Kali, who would curse-- Be he plunged in hell's dark torments--in the deep and vasty lake." Thus the gods to Kali speaking--to their native heavens arose. Soon as they had parted, Kali--thus to Dwapara began: "I my wrath can curb no longer--I henceforth in Nala dwell; From his kingdom will I cast him--from his bliss with his sweet bride. Thou within the dice embodied--Dwapara my cause assist."

BOOK VII.

Bound by that malignant treaty--Kali with his dark ally, Haunted they the stately palace--where Nishadha's monarch ruled; Watching still the fatal instant--in Nishadha long they dwelt. Twelve long years had passed ere Kali--saw that fatal instant come. Nala after act uncleanly--the ablution half performed,[56] Prayed at eve, with feet unwashen--Kali seized the fatal hour. Into Nala straight he entered--and possessed his inmost soul. Pushkara in haste he summoned--come with Nala play at dice, Ever in the gainful hazard--by my subtle aid thou'lt win, Even the kingdom of Nishadha--even from Nala all his realm. Pushkara by Kali summoned--to his brother Nala came, In the dice of dice embodied[57]--Dwapara stood silent by. Pushkara the hero-slayer--to king Nala standing near: "Play we with the dice, my brother,"--thus again, again he said. Long the lofty-minded raja--that bold challenge might not brook, In Vidarbha's princess' presence--deemed he now the time for play. For his wealth, his golden treasures--for his chariots, for his robes, Then possessed by Kali, Nala--in the game was worsted still. He with love of gaming maddened,--of his faithful friends not one Might arrest the desperate frenzy--of the conqueror of his foes. Came the citizens assembling--with the counsellors of state, To behold the king approached they--to restrain his dread disease. Then the charioteer advancing[58]--thus to Damayanti spake: "All the city, noble princess--stands assembled at the gate, Say thou to Nishadha's monarch--'All his subjects here are met; Ill they brook this dire misfortune[59]--in their justice-loving king'." Then, her voice half choked with anguish--spake the sorrow-stricken queen, Spirit-broken, Bhima's daughter--to Nishadha's sovereign spake, "Raja, lo! the assembled city--at the gate their king to see: With the counsellors of wisdom--by their loyal duty led. Deign thou, monarch, to admit them,"--thus again, again she said. To the queen with beauteous eyelids--uttering thus her sad lament, Still possessed by wicked Kali--answered not the king a word. Then those counsellors of wisdom--and those loyal citizens, "'Tis not he," exclaimed in sorrow,--and in shame and grief went home. Thus of Pushkara and Nala--still went on that fatal play; Many a weary month it lasted--and still lost the king of men.

BOOK VIII.

Damayanti then beholding--Punyasloka, king of men,[60] Undistracted, him distracted--with the maddening love of play. In her dread and in her sorrow--thus did Bhima's daughter speak; Pondering on the weighty business--that concerned the king of men. Trembling at his guilty frenzy--yet to please him still intent. Nala, 'reft of all his treasures--when the noble woman saw, Thus addressed she Vrihatsena,--her old faithful slave and nurse, Friendly in all business dextrous--most devoted, wise in speech: "Vrihatsena, go, the council--as at Nala's call convene, Say what he hath lost of treasure--and what treasure yet remains." Then did all that reverend council--Nala's summons as they heard, "Our own fate is now in peril"--speaking thus, approach the king. And a second time his subjects--all assembling, crowded near, And the queen announced their presence;--of her words he took no heed. All her words thus disregarded--when king Bhima's daughter found, To the palace, Damayanti--to conceal her shame returned. When the dice she heard for ever--adverse to the king of men, And of all bereft, her Nala--to the nurse again she spake: "Go again, my Vrihatsena,--in the name of Nala, go, To the charioteer, Varshneya,--great the deed must now be done." Vrihatsena on the instant--Damayanti's words she heard, Caused the charioteer be summoned--by her messengers of trust. Bhima's daughter to Varshneya--winning with her gentle voice, Spake, the time, the place well choosing--for the deed, nor spake in vain: "Well thou know'st the full reliance--that in thee the king hath placed, In his fatal hour of peril--wilt not thou stand forth to aid? As by Pushkara is worsted--ever more and more the king, More and more the fatal frenzy--maddens in his heart for play. As to Pushkara obedient--ever fall the lucky dice, Thus those dice to royal Nala--still with adverse fortune fall. Nor the voice of friend or kindred--as beseems him, will he hear; Even to me he will not listen--in the madness of his heart. Of the lofty-minded Nala--well I know 'tis not the sin, That my words this senseless monarch--in his frenzy will not hear. Charioteer, to thee my refuge--come I, do thou my behest; I am not o'er calm in spirit--haply he may perish thus. Yoke the much-loved steeds of Nala--fleet of foot, as thought, are they, In the chariot place our children--to Cundina's city go.[61] Leave the children with my kindred--and the chariot and the steeds; Then or dwell there at thy pleasure--or depart where'er thou wilt." When the speech of Damayanti--heard king Nala's charioteer, He, the chief of Nala's council--thus in full divan addressed, Weighed within their solemn conclave--and their full assent obtained, With the children in the chariot--to Vidarbha straight he drove. There he rendered up the horses--with the chariot there he left. That young maiden Indrasena--Indrasen, that noble boy. To king Bhima paid his homage--sad, for Nala's fall distressed, Thence departing, to Ayodhya[62]--took the charioteer his way. In his grief to Rituparna--that illustrious king, he came, As his charioteer, the service--entered of the lord of earth.

BOOK IX.

Scarce Varshneya had departed--still the king of men played on, Till to Pushkara his kingdom--all that he possessed, was lost. Nala then, despoiled of kingdom--smiling Pushkara bespake: "Throw we yet another hazard--Nala, where is now thy stake? There remains but Damayanti--all thou hast beside, is mine. Throw we now for Damayanti--come, once more the hazard try." Thus as Pushkara addressed him--Punyasloka's inmost heart By his grief was rent asunder--not a single word he spake. And on Pushkara, king Nala--in his silent anguish gazed. All his ornaments of splendour--from his person stripped he off, With a single vest, scarce covered,--'mid the sorrow of his friends. Slowly wandered forth the monarch--fallen from such an height of bliss. Damayanti with one garment--slowly followed him behind. Three long nights Nishadha's monarch--there without the gates had dwelt. Proclamation through the city--then did Pushkara bid make, "Whosoe'er befriendeth Nala--shall to instant death be doomed." Thus, as Pushkara gave order--in the terror of his power, Might the citizens no longer--hospitably serve the king. Near the walls, of kind reception--worthiest, but by none received; Three nights longer staid the monarch--water was his only drink, He in unfastidious hunger--plucked the fruits, the roots of earth. Then went forth again the outcast:--Damayanti followed slow. In the agony of famine--Nala, after many days, Saw some birds around him settling--with their golden tinctured wings. Then the monarch of Nishadha--thought within his secret heart, These to-day my welcome banquet--and my treasure these will be. Over them his single garment--spreading light he wrapped them round: Up that single garment bearing--to the air they sprang away; And the birds above him hovering--thus in human accents spake, Naked as they saw him standing--on the earth, and sad, and lone:-- "Lo, we are the dice, to spoil thee--thus descended, foolish king! While thou hadst a single garment--all our joy was incomplete." When the dice he saw departing--and himself without his robe, Mournfully did Punyasloka--thus to Damayanti speak: "They, O blameless, by whose anger--from my kingdom I am driven, Life-sustaining food unable--in my misery to find-- They, through whom Nishadha's people--may not house their outcast king-- They, the forms of birds assuming--my one robe have borne away. In the dark extreme of misery--sad and frantic as I am, Hear me, princess, hear and profit--by thy husband's best advice. Hence are many roads diverging--to the region of the south,[63] Passing by Avanti's city[64]--and the height of Rishavan; Vindhya here, the mighty mountain[65]--and Payoshni's seaward stream;[66] And the lone retreats of hermits--on the fruits of earth that live; This will lead thee to Vidarbha--this to Cosala away,[67] Far beyond the region stretches--southward to the southward clime." In these words to Damayanti--did the royal Nala speak, More than once to Bhima's daughter--anxious pointing out the way. She, with voice half choked with sorrow--with her weight of woe oppressed, These sad words did Damayanti--to Nishadha's monarch speak:-- "My afflicted heart is breaking--and my sinking members fail, When, O king, thy desperate counsel--once I think of, once again. Robbed of

kingdom, robbed of riches--naked, thirst and hunger worn; How shall I depart and leave thee--in the wood by man untrod. When thou sad and famine-stricken--thinkest of thy former bliss, In the wild wood, oh, my husband,--I thy weariness will soothe. Like a wife, in every sorrow--this the wise physicians own, Healing herb is none or balsam--Nala, 'tis the truth I speak."

NALA _spake_.

Slender-waisted Damayanti--true, indeed, is all thou'st said; Like a wife no friendly medicine--to afflicted man is given. Fear not that I thee abandon--Wherefore, timid, dread'st thou this? Oh, myself might I abandon--and not thee, thou unreproached.

DAMAYANTI _spake_.

If indeed, oh mighty monarch--thou wilt ne'er abandon me, Wherefore then towards Vidarbha--dost thou point me out the way. Well, I know thee, noble Nala--to desert me far too true, Only with a soul distracted--would'st thou leave me, lord of earth. Yet, again, the way thou pointest--yet, again, thou best of men, Thus my sorrow still enhancing--oh, thou like the immortal gods; If this be thy better counsel--'to her kindred let her go,' Be it so, and both together--to Vidarbha set we forth. Thee Vidarbha's king will honour--honour'd in his turn by thee; Held in high respect and happy--in our mansion thou shall dwell.

BOOK X.

NALA _spake_.

"Mighty is thy father's kingdom--once was mine as mighty too; Never will I there seek refuge--in my base extremity. There I once appeared in glory--to the exalting of thy pride; Shall I now appear in misery--to the increasing of thy shame?" Nala thus to Damayanti--spake again, and yet again, Comforting the noble lady--scant in half a garment clad. Both together by one garment[68]--covered, roamed they here and there; Wearied out by thirst and famine--to a cabin drew they near. When they reached that lowly cabin--then did great Nishadha's king With the princess of Vidarbha--on the hard earth seat them down; Naked, with no mat to rest on--wet with mire and stained with dust. Weary then with Damayanti--on the earth he fell asleep. Sank the lovely Damayanti--by his side with sleep opprest, She thus plunged in sudden misery--she the tender, the devout. But while on the cold earth slumbered--Damayanti, all distraught Nala in his mind by sorrow--might no longer calmly sleep; For the losing of his kingdom--the desertion of his friends, And his weary forest wanderings--painful on his thought arose; "If I do it, what may follow?--what if I refuse to do? Were my instant death the better--or to abandon her I love. But to me too deep devoted--suffers she distress and shame; Reft of me she home may wander--to her royal father's house; Faithful wandering ever with me--certain sorrow will she bear, But if separated from me--chance of solace may be hers." Long within his heart he pondered--and again, again weighed o'er. Best he thought it Damayanti--to desert, that wretched king. From her virtue none dare harm her[69]--in the lonely forest way, Her the fortunate, the noble--my devoted wedded wife. Thus his mind on Damayanti--dwelt in its perverted thought, Wrought by Kali's evil influence--to desert his lovely wife. Of himself without a garment--and of her with only one. As he thought, approached he near her--to divide that single robe. "How shall I divide the garment--by my loved one unperceived?" Pondering this within his spirit--round the cabin Nala went; In that narrow cabin's circuit--Nala wandered here and there, Till he found without a scabbard--shining, a well-tempered sword. Then when half that only garment--he had severed, and put on, In her sleep Vidarbha's princess--with bewildered mind he fled. Yet, his cruel heart relenting--to the cabin turns he back; On the slumbering Damayanti--gazing, sadly wept the king; "Thou, that sun nor wind hath ever--roughly visited, my love! On the hard earth in a cabin--sleepest with thy guardian gone. Thus attired in half a garment--she that aye so sweetly smiled, Like to one distracted, beauteous--how at length will she awake? How will't fare with Bhima's daughter--lone, abandoned by her lord, Wandering in the savage forest--where wild beasts and serpents dwell. May the suns and winds of heaven--may the genii of the woods,[70] Noblest, may they all protect thee--thine own virtue thy best guard." To his wife of peerless beauty--on the earth, 'twas thus he spoke. Then of sense bereft by Kali--Nala hastily set forth; And departing, still departing--he returned again, again; Dragged away by that bad demon--ever by his love drawn back. Nala, thus his heart divided--into two conflicting parts, Like a swing

goes backward, forward--from the cabin, to and fro. Torn away at length by Kali--flies afar the frantic king, Leaving there his wife in slumber--making miserable moans. Reft of sense, possessed by Kali--thinking still on her he left, Passed he in the lonely forest--leaving his deserted wife.

BOOK XI.

Scarcely had king Nala parted--Damayanti now refreshed, Wakened up, the slender-waisted--timorous in the desert wood. When she did not see her husband--overpowered with grief and pain, Loud she shriek'd in her first anguish--"Where art thou, Nishadha's king? Mighty king! my soul-protector--O, my lord! desert'st thou me. Oh, I'm lost! undone for ever--helpless in the wild wood left; Faithful once to every duty--wert thou not, and true in word. Art thou faithful to thy promise--to desert me thus in sleep. Could'st thou then depart, forsaking--thy devoted, constant wife; Her in sooth that never wronged thee--wronged indeed, but not by her. Keep'st thou thus thy solemn promise--oh, unfaithful lord of men, There, when all the gods were present--plighted to thy wedded wife? Death is but decreed to mortals--at its own appointed time, Hence one moment, thus deserted[71]--one brief moment do I live.-- But thou'st had thy sport--enough then--now desist, O king of men, Mock not thou a trembling woman--show thee to me, O my lord! Yes, I see thee, there I see thee--hidden as thou think'st from sight, In the rushes why conceal thee?--answer me, why speak'st thou not. Wherefore now ungentle stay'st thou--like to one forsworn, aloof? Wherefore wilt thou not approach me--to console me in my woe? For myself I will not sorrow--nor for aught to me befalls. Thou art all alone, my husband,--I will only mourn for thee. How will't fare with thee, my Nala--thirsting, famished, faint with toil. Nor beholding me await thee--underneath the trees at eve." Then, in all her depth of anguish--with her trouble as on fire, Hither, thither, went she weeping--all around she went and wailed. Now springs up the desolate princess--now falls down in prostrate grief; Now she pines in silent sorrow--now she shrieks and wails aloud. So consumed with inward misery--ever sighing more and more, Spake at length king Bhima's daughter--spake the still devoted wife: "He, by whose dire imprecation--Nala this dread suffering bears, May he far surpass in suffering--all that Nala suffers now, May the evil one, to evil--who the blameless Nala drives, Smitten by a curse as fatal--live a dark unblessed life." Thus her absent lord lamenting--that high-minded raja's queen, Every-where her lord went seeking--in the satyr-haunted wood.[72] Like a maniac, Bhima's daughter--wandered wailing here and there; And "alas! alas! my husband"--every-where her cry was heard. Her beyond all measure wailing--like the osprey screaming shrill, Miserably still deploring--still renewing her lament. Suddenly king Bhima's daughter--as she wandered near his lair, Seized a huge gigantic serpent--in his raging famine fierce. In the grasp of that fierce serpent--round about with terror girt, Not herself she pities only--pities she Nishadha's king. "O my guardian, thus unguarded--in this savage forest seized, Seized by this terrific serpent--wherefore art not thou at hand? How will't be, when thou rememberest--once again thy faithful wife, From this dreadful curse delivered--mind, and sense, and wealth returned? When thou'rt weary, when thou'rt hungry--when thou'rt fainting with fatigue, Who will soothe, O blameless Nala--all thy weariness, thy woe." Then a huntsman as he wandered--in the forest jungle thick, As he