Long the time that passed, a Brahmin — wise Parnada was his name, Home returning to the city — thus to Bhima's daughter spake: “Damayanti! royal Nala — as I sought Nishadha's king, Came I to Ayodhya's city — the Bhangasuri's abode.
Stood before me, eager listening — to the words thou bad'st us speak, He, the prosperous Rituparna — all excelling! such his name. Thus as spake I, answered nothing — Rituparna, king of men; Nor of all that full assemblage — more than once addressed by me.
By the king dismissed, when sate I — in a solitary place, One of Rituparna's household — Vahuca, his name, drew near, Charioteer of that great raja — with short arms and all deformed, Skilled to drive the rapid chariot — skilled the viands to prepare.
He, when much he'd groaned in anguish — and had wept again, again, First his courteous salutation — made, then spake in words like these: Even in the extreme of misery — noble women still preserve, Over their ownselves the mastery — by their virtues winning heaven;
Of their faithless lords abandoned — anger feel not even then. In the breastplate of their virtue — noble women live unharmed. By the wretched, by the senseless — by the lost to every joy, She by such a lord forsaken — yet to anger will not yield.
Against him his sustenance seeking — of his robe by birds despoiled, Him consumed with utmost misery — still no wrath the dark-hued feels; Treated well, or ill entreated — when her husband she beholds, Spoiled of bliss, bereft of kingdom — famine-wasted, worn with woe.
Having heard the stranger's language — hither hasted I to come. Thou hast heard, be thine the judgment — to the king relate thou all.” To Parnada having listened — with her eyes o'erflowed with tears, Secretly went Damayanti — and her mother thus addressed:
“Let not what I speak to Bhima — O my mother, be made known — In thy presence to Sudeva — best of Brahmins, I would speak. Let not this my secret counsel — to king Bhima be disclosed; This the object we must compass — if thy daughter thou wouldst please,
As myself was to my kindred — swiftly by Sudeva brought, With the same good fortune swiftly — may Sudeva part from hence, Home to bring the royal Nala — mother, to Ayodhya's town.” Resting from his toil, Parnada — of the Brahmin race the best,
Did the daughter of Vidarbha — honour, and with wealth reward. “Brahmin! home if come my Nala — richer guerdon will I give; Much hast thou achieved, and wisely — so as none but thou has done. That again with my lost husband — noblest Brahmin, I may meet.”
Thus addressed, his grateful homage — and his benedictions paid, Having thus achieved his mission — home the wise Parnada went. Then accosting good Sudeva — Damayanti thus began, And before her mother's presence — in her pain and grief she spake:
“Go, Sudeva, to the city — where Ayodhya's raja dwells, Speak thou thus to Rituparna — Come, as of thine own accord. Once again her Swayembara — does king Bhima's daughter hold; Damayanti, thither hasten — all the kings and sons of kings;
Closely now the time is reckoned — when to-morrow's dawn appears; If that thou would'st win the Princess — speed thou, tamer of thy foes. When the sun is in his rising — she a second lord will choose: Whether lives or is not living — royal Nala, no one knows.”
Thus, as he received his mission — hastening to the king, he spake, To the royal Rituparna — spake Sudeva, in these words.
Cookies on Poetry Cove