overed,--'mid the sorrow of his friends.
Slowly wandered forth the monarch--fallen from such an height of bliss.
Damayanti with one garment--slowly followed him behind.
Three long nights Nishadha's monarch--there without the gates had dwelt.
Proclamation through the city--then did Pushkara bid make,
"Whosoe'er befriendeth Nala--shall to instant death be doomed."
Thus, as Pushkara gave order--in the terror of his power,
Might the citizens no longer--hospitably serve the king.
Near the walls, of kind reception--worthiest, but by none received;
Three nights longer staid the monarch--water was his only drink,
He in unfastidious hunger--plucked the fruits, the roots of earth.
Then went forth again the outcast:--Damayanti followed slow.
In the agony of famine--Nala, after many days,
Saw some birds around him settling--with their golden tinctured wings.
Then the monarch of Nishadha--thought within his secret heart,
These to-day my welcome banquet--and my treasure these will be.
Over them his single garment--spreading light he wrapped them round:
Up that single garment bearing--to the air they sprang away;
And the birds above him hovering--thus in human accents spake,
Naked as they saw him standing--on the earth, and sad, and lone:--
"Lo, we are the dice, to spoil thee--thus descended, foolish king!
While thou hadst a single garment--all our joy was incomplete."
When the dice he saw departing--and himself without his robe,
Mournfully did Punyasloka--thus to Damayanti speak:
"They, O blameless, by whose anger--from my kingdom I am driven,
Life-sustaining food unable--in my misery to find--
They, through whom Nishadha's people--may not house their outcast king--
They, the forms of birds assuming--my one robe have borne away.
In the dark extreme of misery--sad and frantic as I am,
Hear me, princess, hear and profit--by thy husband's best advice.
Hence are many roads diverging--to the region of the south,[63]
Passing by Avanti's city[64]--and the height of Rishavan;
Vindhya here, the mighty mountain[65]--and Payoshni's seaward stream;[66]
And the lone retreats of hermits--on the fruits of earth that live;
This will lead thee to Vidarbha--this to Cosala away,[67]
Far beyond the region stretches--southward to the southward clime."
In these words to Damayanti--did the royal Nala speak,
Mor