“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— 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— 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, 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.
Cookies on Poetry Cove