To the gods performed her homage—smiled she, and to Nala spake:—
"Pledge to me thy faith,[35] O raja—how that faith, may I requite?
I myself, and whatsoever—in the world I have, is thine
In full trust is thine[36]—O grant me—in thy turn thy love, O king!
Tis the swan's enamouring language—that hath kindled all my soul.
Only for thy sake, O hero—are the assembled rajas met.
But if thou mine homage scornest—scornest me, all honoured king,
Poison for thy sake, fire, water,—the vile noose will I endure."[37]
So, when spake Vidarbha's maiden—Nala answered thus, and said:—
"With the world's dread guardians present—wilt thou mortal husband choose?
We with them, the world's creators—with these mighty lords compared,
Lowlier than the dust they tread on—raise to them thy loftier mind.
Man the gods displeasing, hastens—to inevitable death—
Fair limbed! from that fate preserve me—choose the all excelling gods.
Robes by earthly dust unsullied—crowns of amaranthine flowers,
Every bright celestial glory—wedded to the gods, enjoy.
He, who all the world compressing[38]—with devouring might consumes,
Sovereign of the gods, HutÁsa,—where is she who would not wed?
He, in awe of whose dread sceptre[39]—all the assembled hosts of men,
Cultivate eternal justice—where is she who would not wed?
Him the all-righteous, lofty minded,—slayer of the infernal host,[40]
Of all gods, the mighty monarch,—who is she that would not wed?
Nor let trembling doubt arrest thee—in thy mind if thou couldst choose.[41]
Varuna, amongst earth's guardians,—hear the language of a friend."
To the sovereign of Nishadha—Damayanti spake, and said,
And her eyes grew dim with moisture—flowing from her inward grief:—
"To the gods, to all, my homage—king of earth, I humbly pay;
Yet thee only, thee, my husband—may I choose, Be this my vow!"
Answered he the trembling maiden—as with folded hands she stood,
"Bound upon this solemn mission—mine own cause how dare I urge.
Plighted by a sacred promise—to the everlasting gods;
Thus engaged to plead for others—for myself I may not plead.
This my duty; yet hereafter—come I on my own behalf,
Then I'll plead mine own cause boldly—weigh it, beauteous, in thy thought."
Damayanti smiled serenely,—and with tear-impeded speech,
Uttered brokenly and slowly—thus to royal Nala spake:—
"Yet I see a way of refuge—'tis a blameless way, O king;
Whence no sin to thee, O raja,—may by any chance arise.
Thou, O noblest of all mortals—and the gods by Indra led,
Come and enter in together—where the Swayembara meets;
Then will I, before the presence—of the guardians of the world,
Name thee, lord of men! my husband—nor to thee may blame accrue."
By the maiden of Vidarbha—royal Nala thus addressed,
Back again returned, where waited—eager, the expecting gods.
Him, the guardians of the world, the mighty—ere he yet drew near, beheld,
Him they saw, and bade him instant—all his tidings to unfold—
"Was she seen of thee, O monarch—Damayanti with soft smile?
Spake she of us all? what said she?—tell, O blameless lord of earth."

To the bower of Damayanti—on your solemn mission sent,
Entered I the lofty portal—by the aged warders watched;
Mortal eye might not behold me—there as swift I entered in;
None save that fair raja's daughter—through your all prevailing power.
And her virgin handmaids, saw I—and by them in turn was seen;
And they all in mute amazement—gazed upon me as I stood.
I described your godlike presence—but the maid with beauteous face
Chooses me, bereft of reason—O most excellent of gods!
Thus she spake, that maiden princess,—"Let the gods together come,
Come with thee, Oh king of mortals,—where the Swayembara meets;
There will I, before their presence—choose thee, raja, for my lord.
So to thee, O strong armed warrior—may no blame, no fault ensue."
Thus it was, even as I tell you—word for word did it befall.
Plainly have I spoke, the judgment—rests with you, of gods the chief!