Vanished thus the King of Serpents--set Nishadha's raja forth,
Rituparna's royal city--on the tenth day entered he.
Straight before the royal presence--"Vahuca am I," he said,
"In the skill of taming horses--on the earth is not my peer;
Use me, where the difficult counsel--where thou want'st the dexterous hand;
In the art of dressing viands[106]--I am skilful above all.
Whatsoe'er the art, whatever--be most difficult to do,
I will strive to execute it--take me to thy service, king."
RITUPARNA _spake_.
"Vahuca, I bid thee welcome--all this service shalt thou do,
On my horses' rapid motion--deeply is my mind engaged.
Take thou then on thee the office--that my steeds be fleet of foot,
Of my horse be thou the master--hundred hundreds is thy pay:[107]
Ever shalt thou have for comrades--Varshneya and Jivala:
With these two pursue thy pleasure--Vahuca, abide with me."
Thus addressed, did Nala, honoured--by king Rituparna long,
With Varshneya in that city--and with Jivala abide:
There abode he, sadly thinking--of Vidarbha's daughter still.
In the evening, every evening--uttered he this single verse;
"Where is she, by thirst and hunger--worn, and weary, pious still,
Thinking of her unwise husband--in whose presence is she now!"
Thus the raja, ever speaking--Jivala one night addressed;
"Who is she, for whom thou grievest?--Vahuca, I fain would hear."
[108]Answered thus the royal Nala--"To a man of sense bereft,
Once belonged a peerless lady--most infirm of word was he;
From some cause from her dissevered--went that frantic man away,
In his foolish soul thus parted--wanders he, by sorrow racked;
Night and day, and still for ever--by his parching grief consumed:
Nightly brooding o'er his sorrows--sings he this sad single verse.
O'er the whole wide earth a wanderer--chance-alighting in some place,
Dwells that woful man, unworthy,--ever wakeful with his grief.
Him that noble lady following--in the forest lone and dread,
Lives, of that bad man forsaken--hard it is to say, she lives!
Lone, and young, the ways unknowing--undeserving of such fate,
Pines she there with thirst and hunger--hard it is to say, she lives.
In that vast and awful forest--haunted by fierce beasts of prey,
By her lord she roams forsaken--hapless, by that luckless lord."
Thus remembering Damayanti--did Nishadha's king unknown,
Long within that dwelling sojourn--in the palace of the king.