The _Boisnavi_, listening to the different demands, gave a momentary glance at Kunda, saying: "Have you no commands to give ?" Kunda, ashamed, bent her head smiling, but did not speak aloud; she whispered in the ear of a companion, "Mention some hymn." The companion said, "Kunda desires that you will sing a hymn." The _Boisnavi_ then began a hymn.

Kunda, seeing that the _Boisnavi_ had neglected all other commands to obey hers, was much abashed.

Haridasi, striking gently on her tambourine as if in sport, recited in a gentle voice some few notes like the murmuring of a bee in early spring, or a bashful bride's first loving speech to her husband.

Then suddenly she produced from that insignificant tambourine, as though with the fingers of a powerful musician, sounds like the crashing of the clouds in thunder, making the frames of her hearers shrink within them as she sang in tones more melodious than those of the _Apsharas_ (celestial singing women).
The ladies, astonished and enchanted, heard the _Boisnavi's_ unequalled voice filling the court with sound that ascended to the skies.

What could secluded women understand of the method of that singing?
An intelligent person would have comprehended that this perfect singing was not due to natural gifts alone.