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..