Damayanti then beholding—Punyasloka, king of men,[60]
Undistracted, him distracted—with the maddening love of play.
In her dread and in her sorrow—thus did Bhima's daughter speak;
Pondering on the weighty business—that concerned the king of men.
Trembling at his guilty frenzy—yet to please him still intent.
Nala, 'reft of all his treasures—when the noble woman saw,
Thus addressed she Vrihatsena,—her old faithful slave and nurse,
Friendly in all business dextrous—most devoted, wise in speech:
"Vrihatsena, go, the council—as at Nala's call convene,
Say what he hath lost of treasure—and what treasure yet remains."
Then did all that reverend council—Nala's summons as they heard,
"Our own fate is now in peril"—speaking thus, approach the king.
And a second time his subjects—all assembling, crowded near,
And the queen announced their presence;—of her words he took no heed.
All her words thus disregarded—when king Bhima's daughter found,
To the palace, Damayanti—to conceal her shame returned.
When the dice she heard for ever—adverse to the king of men,
And of all bereft, her Nala—to the nurse again she spake:
"Go again, my Vrihatsena,—in the name of Nala, go,
To the charioteer, Varshneya,—great the deed must now be done."
Vrihatsena on the instant—Damayanti's words she heard,
Caused the charioteer be summoned—by her messengers of trust.
Bhima's daughter to Varshneya—winning with her gentle voice,
Spake, the time, the place well choosing—for the deed, nor spake in vain:
"Well thou know'st the full reliance—that in thee the king hath placed,
In his fatal hour of peril—wilt not thou stand forth to aid?
As by Pushkara is worsted—ever more and more the king,
More and more the fatal frenzy—maddens in his heart for play.
As to Pushkara obedient—ever fall the lucky dice,
Thus those dice to royal Nala—still with adverse fortune fall.
Nor the voice of friend or kindred—as beseems him, will he hear;
Even to me he will not listen—in the madness of his heart.
Of the lofty-minded Nala—well I know 'tis not the sin,
That my words this senseless monarch—in his frenzy will not hear.
Charioteer, to thee my refuge—come I, do thou my behest;
I am not o'er calm in spirit—haply he may perish thus.
Yoke the much-loved steeds of Nala—fleet of foot, as thought, are they,
In the chariot place our children—to Cundina's city go.[61]
Leave the children with my kindred—and the chariot and the steeds;
Then or dwell there at thy pleasure—or depart where'er thou wilt."
When the speech of Damayanti—heard king Nala's charioteer,
He, the chief of Nala's council—thus in full divan addressed,
Weighed within their solemn conclave—and their full assent obtained,
With the children in the chariot—to Vidarbha straight he drove.
There he rendered up the horses—with the chariot there he left.
That young maiden Indrasena—Indrasen, that noble boy.
To king Bhima paid his homage—sad, for Nala's fall distressed,
Thence departing, to Ayodhya[62]—took the charioteer his way.
In his grief to Rituparna—that illustrious king, he came,
As his charioteer, the service—entered of the lord of earth.