Bound by that malignant treaty--Kali with his dark ally,
Haunted they the stately palace--where Nishadha's monarch ruled;
Watching still the fatal instant--in Nishadha long they dwelt.
Twelve long years had passed ere Kali--saw that fatal instant come.
Nala after act uncleanly--the ablution half performed,[56]
Prayed at eve, with feet unwashen--Kali seized the fatal hour.
Into Nala straight he entered--and possessed his inmost soul.
Pushkara in haste he summoned--come with Nala play at dice,
Ever in the gainful hazard--by my subtle aid thou'lt win,
Even the kingdom of Nishadha--even from Nala all his realm.
Pushkara by Kali summoned--to his brother Nala came,
In the dice of dice embodied[57]--Dwapara stood silent by.
Pushkara the hero-slayer--to king Nala standing near:
"Play we with the dice, my brother,"--thus again, again he said.
Long the lofty-minded raja--that bold challenge might not brook,
In Vidarbha's princess' presence--deemed he now the time for play.
For his wealth, his golden treasures--for his chariots, for his robes,
Then possessed by Kali, Nala--in the game was worsted still.
He with love of gaming maddened,--of his faithful friends not one
Might arrest the desperate frenzy--of the conqueror of his foes.
Came the citizens assembling--with the counsellors of state,
To behold the king approached they--to restrain his dread disease.
Then the charioteer advancing[58]--thus to Damayanti spake:
"All the city, noble princess--stands assembled at the gate,
Say thou to Nishadha's monarch--'All his subjects here are met;
Ill they brook this dire misfortune[59]--in their justice-loving king'."
Then, her voice half choked with anguish--spake the sorrow-stricken queen,
Spirit-broken, Bhima's daughter--to Nishadha's sovereign spake,
"Raja, lo! the assembled city--at the gate their king to see:
With the counsellors of wisdom--by their loyal duty led.
Deign thou, monarch, to admit them,"--thus again, again she said.
To the queen with beauteous eyelids--uttering thus her sad lament,
Still possessed by wicked Kali--answered not the king a word.
Then those counsellors of wisdom--and those loyal citizens,
"'Tis not he," exclaimed in sorrow,--and in shame and grief went home.
Thus of Pushkara and Nala--still went on that fatal play;
Many a weary month it lasted--and still lost the king of men.