t 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 t