No precious mine more rich could be, No burning flame more bright than he. His arms embraced in loving hold, Like a dear wife, a vase of gold Whose silver lining held a draught Of nectar as in heaven is quaffed-- A vase so vast, so bright to view, They scarce could count the vision true. Upon the King his eyes he bent, And said: "The Lord of life has sent His servant down, O Prince, to be A messenger from heaven to thee." The King with all his nobles by Raised reverent hands and made reply:-- "Welcome, O glorious being! Say How can my care thy grace repay," Envoy of Him whom all adore, Thus to the King he spake once more:-- "The Gods accept thy worship--they Give thee the blessed fruit to-day. Approach and take, O glorious King, This heavenly nectar which I bring, For it shall give thee sons and wealth, And bless thee with a store of health. Give it to those fair queens of thine, And bid them quaff the drink divine-- And they the princely sons shall bear Long sought by sacrifice and prayer." "Yea, O my lord," the monarch said, And took the vase upon his head, The gift of Gods, of fine gold wrought, With store of heavenly liquor fraught. He honored, filled with transport new, That wondrous being, fair to view, As round the envoy of the God With reverential steps he trod. His errand done, that form of light Arose and vanished from the sight. High rapture filled the monarch's soul, Possessed of that celestial bowl, As when a man by want distressed With unexpected wealth is blest. And rays of transport seemed to fall Illuminating bower and hall, As when the autumn moon rides high, And floods with lovely light the sky. Quick to the ladies' bower he sped, And thus to Queen Kauśalyá said:-- "This genial nectar take and quaff," He spoke, and gave the lady half. Part of the nectar that remained Sumitrá from his hand obtained. He gave, to make her fruitful too, Kaikeyí half the residue. A portion yet remaining there, He paused awhile to think, Then gave Sumitrá, with her share, The remnant of the drink. Thus on each queen of those fair three A part the King bestowed, And with sweet hope a child to see Their yearning bosoms glowed. The heavenly bowl the King supplied Their longing souls relieved, And soon, with rapture and with pride, Each royal dame conceived. He gazed upon each lady's face, And triumphed as he gazed. As Indra in his royal place By Gods and spirits praised. CANTO XVI THE VANARS