NALA _spake_.
"Mighty is thy father's kingdom--once was mine as mighty too;
Never will I there seek refuge--in my base extremity.
There I once appeared in glory--to the exalting of thy pride;
Shall I now appear in misery--to the increasing of thy shame?"
Nala thus to Damayanti--spake again, and yet again,
Comforting the noble lady--scant in half a garment clad.
Both together by one garment[68]--covered, roamed they here and there;
Wearied out by thirst and famine--to a cabin drew they near.
When they reached that lowly cabin--then did great Nishadha's king
With the princess of Vidarbha--on the hard earth seat them down;
Naked, with no mat to rest on--wet with mire and stained with dust.
Weary then with Damayanti--on the earth he fell asleep.
Sank the lovely Damayanti--by his side with sleep opprest,
She thus plunged in sudden misery--she the tender, the devout.
But while on the cold earth slumbered--Damayanti, all distraught
Nala in his mind by sorrow--might no longer calmly sleep;
For the losing of his kingdom--the desertion of his friends,
And his weary forest wanderings--painful on his thought arose;
"If I do it, what may follow?--what if I refuse to do?
Were my instant death the better--or to abandon her I love.
But to me too deep devoted--suffers she distress and shame;
Reft of me she home may wander--to her royal father's house;
Faithful wandering ever with me--certain sorrow will she bear,
But if separated from me--chance of solace may be hers."
Long within his heart he pondered--and again, again weighed o'er.
Best he thought it Damayanti--to desert, that wretched king.
From her virtue none dare harm her[69]--in the lonely forest way,
Her the fortunate, the noble--my devoted wedded wife.
Thus his mind on Damayanti--dwelt in its perverted thought,
Wrought by Kali's evil influence--to desert his lovely wife.
Of himself without a garment--and of her with only one.
As he thought, approached he near her--to divide that single robe.
"How shall I divide the garment--by my loved one unperceived?"
Pondering this within his spirit--round the cabin Nala went;
In that narrow cabin's circuit--Nala wandered here and there,
Till he found without a scabbard--shining, a well-tempered sword.
Then when half that only garment--he had severed, and put on,
In her sleep Vidarbha's princess--with bewildered mind he fled.
Yet, his cruel heart relenting--to the cabin turns he back;
On the slumbering Damayanti--gazing, sadly wept the king;
"Thou, that sun nor wind hath ever--roughly visited, my love!
On the hard earth in a cabin--sleepest with thy guardian gone.
Thus attired in half a garment--she that aye so sweetly smiled,
Like to one distracted, beauteous--how at length will she awake?
How will't fare with Bhima's daughter--lone, abandoned by her lord,
Wandering in the savage forest--where wild beasts and serpents dwell.
May the suns and winds of heaven--may the genii of the woods,[70]
Noblest, may they all protect thee--thine own virtue thy best guard."
To his wife of peerless beauty--on the earth, 'twas thus he spoke.
Then of sense bereft by Kali--Nala hastily set forth;
And departing, still departing--he returned again, again;
Dragged away by that bad demon--ever by his love drawn back.
Nala, thus his heart divided--into two conflicting parts,
Like a swing goes backward, forward--from the cabin, to and fro.
Torn away at length by Kali--flies afar the frantic king,
Leaving there his wife in slumber--making miserable moans.
Reft of sense, possessed by Kali--thinking still on her he left,
Passed he in the lonely forest--leaving his deserted wife.