Part 5 (1/2)

He the offerer, best of monarchs--known by his commanding eye, Pious, and of life unblemished--true in word, of generous speech, Affable, courageous, prosperous--skilled in every duty, pure.

Of Vidarbha the protector--conqueror of a host of foes; Know me of that king the daughter--lowly thus approaching thee.

In Nishadha, mighty Mountain! dwelt the father of my lord.

High the name he won, the ill.u.s.trious--Virasena was he called.

Of this king the son, the hero--prosperous and truly brave, He who rules his father's kingdom--by hereditary right, Slayer of his foes, dark Nala--Punyasloka is he called; Holy, Veda read, and eloquent--soma quaffing, fire adoring,[78][79]

Sacrificer, liberal giver--warrior, in all points a king,-- Of this monarch, best of mountains--know, the wife before thee stands.

Fallen from bliss, bereft of husband--unprotected, sorrow-doomed, Seeking every where her husband--him the best of n.o.blest men.

Best of mountains, heaven-upsoaring--with thy hundred stately peaks, Hast thou seen the kingly Nala--in this dark and awful wood: Like the elephant in courage--wise, impetuous, with long arms, Valiant, and of truth unquestioned--my heroic, glorious lord; Hast thou seen Nishadha's sovereign--mighty Nala hast thou seen?

Why repliest thou not, oh Mountain--sorrowing, lonely, and distressed, With thy voice why not console me--as thine own afflicted child?

Hero, mighty, strong in duty--true of promise, lord of earth, If thou art within the forest--show thee in thy proper form.

When so eloquently deep-toned--like the sound of some dark cloud, Shall I hear thy voice, oh Nala!--sweet as the amrita draught,[80]

Saying, 'daughter of Vidarbha!'--with distinct, with blessed sound, Musical as holy Veda--rich, and soothing all my pain; Thus console me, trembling, fainting--thou, oh virtue-loving king!”

To the holiest of mountains--spake the daughter of the king.

Damayanti then set forward--toward the region of the north.

Three days long, three nights she wandered--then that n.o.ble woman saw, The unrivalled wood of hermits--like to a celestial grove.

To the ancient famous hermits[81]--equal was that sacred crew; Self-denying, strict in diet[82]--temperate, and undefiled; Water-drinking, air inhaling--and the leaves their simple food; Mortified, for ever blessed--seeking the right way to heaven; Bark for vests and skins for raiment--wore those hermits, sense-subdued.

She beheld the pleasant circle--of those hermits' lonely cells; Round them flocks of beasts were grazing--wantoned there the monkey tribes.

When she saw those holy dwellings--all her courage was revived.

Lovely browed, and lovely tressed--lovely bosom'd, lovely lipp'd,[83]

In her brightness, in her glory--with her large dark beauteous eyes, Entered she those hermit dwellings--wife of Virasena's son; Pearl of women, ever blessed-Damayanti the devout, She those holy men saluting--stood with modest form half bent.

”Hail, and welcome!” thus those hermits--instant with one voice exclaimed.

And those sacred men no sooner--had the fitting homage paid, ”Take thy seat,” they said, ”oh lady[84]--and command what we must do.”

Thus replied the slender waisted--”Blessed are ye, holy men.

In your sacred fires, your wors.h.i.+p[85]--blameless, with your beasts and birds.[86]

Doth the grace of heaven attend you--in your duties, in your deeds?”

Answered they, ”The grace of heaven--ever blesses all our deeds.

But say thou, of form so beauteous--who thou art, and what thou would'st?

As thy n.o.ble form we gaze on--on thy brightness as we gaze, In amaze we stand and wonder--cheer thee up, and mourn no more.

Of the wood art thou the G.o.ddess--or the mountain G.o.ddess thou; Or the G.o.ddess of the river?--Blessed Spirit, speak the truth.

Nor the sylvan G.o.ddess am I,”--to the Wise she thus replied; ”Neither of the mountain, Brahmins--nor the river nymph am I.

Know me but a mortal being--O, ye rich in holiness!

All my tale at length, I'll tell ye--if meet audience ye will give.

In Vidarbha, mighty guardian--Bhima, dwells the lord of earth; Of that n.o.ble king the daughter--twice-born Sages, know ye me.[87]

And the monarch of Nishadha--Nala named, the great in fame; Brave in battle, conqueror, prudent--is my lord, the peasants' king; To the G.o.ds devout in wors.h.i.+p--friendly to the Brahmin race, Of Nishadha's race the guardian--great in glory, great in might, True in word, and skilled in duty--and the slayer of his foes.

Pious, heaven-devoted, prosperous--conqueror of hostile towns; Nala named, the best of sovereigns--splendid as the king of G.o.ds.

Know that large-eyed chief, my husband--like the full-orbed moon his face, Giver he of costly offerings--deep in th' holy volumes read; Slayer of his foes in battle--glorious as the sun and moon.

He to some most evil minded--unrespected, wicked men, After many a challenge, studious--he of virtue and of truth, To these skilful gamesters, fraudful--lost his kingdom and his wealth.

Know ye me the hapless consort--of that n.o.ble king of kings, Damayanti, so they name me--yearning for my husband's sight.

I through forests, over mountains--stagnant marsh and river broad, Lake with wide pellucid surface--through the long and trackless wood, Ever seeking for my husband--Nala, skilful in the fight.

Mighty in the use of weapons--wander desolate and sad.

Tell me, to this pleasant sojourn--sacred to these holy men, Hath he come, the royal Nala?--hath Nishadha's monarch come?

For whose sake through ways all trackless--terrible, have I set forth, In this drear, appalling forest--where the lynx and tiger range, If I see not n.o.ble Nala--ere few days, few nights are o'er, I to happiness will join me--from this mortal frame set free.

Reft of him, my princely husband--what have I to do with life-- How endure existence longer--for my husband thus distressed.”

To the lady thus complaining--lonely in the savage wood, Answered thus those holy hermits--spake the gifted seers the truth:-- ”There will be a time hereafter--beautiful, the time will come, Through devotion now we see him[88]--and thou too wilt see him soon; That good monarch of Nishadha--Nala, slayer of his foes; That dispenser of strict justice--Bhima's daughter! free from grief, From all sin released, thou'lt see him--glittering in his royal gems, Governing that n.o.ble city--o'er his enemies supreme.

To his foemen causing terror--to his friends allaying grief, Thou, oh n.o.ble, shalt thy husband--see, that king of n.o.ble race.”

To the much-loved wife of Nala--to the princess speaking thus, Vanished then those holy hermits--with their sacred fires, their cells.

As she gazed upon the wonder--wrapt in mute amaze she stood; Damayanti, fair-limbed princess--wife of Virasena's son; ”Have I only seen a vision--what hath been this wondrous chance?