pped on him the poisonous serpent,
which immediately bit him. In the confusion which ensued, I slipped
down from the tree, and, having mixed with the crowd, managed, while
shouting out "This is a just punishment from heaven; so may all
traitors perish," to get close to my father, and quickly applied a
charm in such a manner that, though he fell down apparently dead, the
effect of the poison was stopped. The executioner being also bitten;
and his assistants, as well as the crowd of spectators, being alarmed
and dispersed from dread of the poisonous serpent; this act of mine
was not noticed.
Meanwhile, my mother, who had been prepared by Purnabhadra to hear of
her husband's death, went immediately to the king, attended by a large
number of friends, and said; "The gods know if my husband was your
enemy or not; I will not now attempt to defend him; but, whether he
was innocent or guilty, your anger should cease now he is dead. I pray
you to allow me to burn his body, and according to the custom of
widows of my rank, to ascend the funeral pile together with him. Were
I not to perform this duty, disgrace would fall on you and on the
whole family, as well as on myself."
The king, well pleased to have got rid of the obnoxious minister,
without incurring the sin of killing him, exclaimed: "This death is
indeed the act of fate!" And, immediately granting her request,
permitted the body of Kamapala to be taken to his own house, where I
had by that time arrived, and was ready to receive it.
Meanwhile, my mother prepared for death, and, resisting all the
entreaties of her friends and servants, expressed her determination to
be burnt together with her husband.
When everything for the funeral was arranged, she came into the
private room, where the body had been laid, and there saw her husband
fully recovered, and me sitting by him. Great was her delight and
astonishment at this wonderful and sudden change; and having first
embraced her husband, she threw her arms round me, and, with a voice
broken by sobs of joy, said: "O, my darling son, how can I deserve
such happiness?--I, who so cruelly abandoned you at your birth, and
suffered you to be taken away, as if dead? but your father was not to
blame for that; he, indeed, deserves to have been restored to life by
you, and to have the happiness of seeing you. Cruel, indeed, was
Taravali, who, when she had received you again from Kuvera, did not
bring you at once to me; but what c
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