With joy the saintly hermit heard Each pleasant and delightful word, And poured a benediction down On King and ministers and town. Glad at the words of that high saint Some servants hastened to acquaint Their King, rejoicing to impart The tidings that would cheer his heart. Soon as the joyful tale he knew To meet the saint the monarch flew, The guest-gift in his hand he brought, And bowed before him and besought:-- "This day by seeing thee I gain Not to have lived my life in vain. Now be not wroth with me, I pray, Because I wiled thy son away." The best of Bráhmans answer made:-- "Be not, great lord of Kings, afraid. Thy virtues have not failed to win My favor, O thou pure of sin." Then in the front the saint was placed, The King came next in joyous haste, And with him entered his abode, 'Mid glad acclaim as on they rode. To greet the sage the reverent crowd Raised suppliant hands and humbly bowed. Then from the palace many a dame Following well-dressed Śántá came, Stood by the mighty saint and cried:-- "See, honor's source, thy son's dear bride." The saint, who every virtue knew, His arms around his daughter threw, And with a father's rapture pressed The lady to his wondering breast. Arising from the saint's embrace She bowed her low before his face, And then, with palm to palm applied, Stood by her hermit father's side. He for his son, as laws ordain, Performed the rite that frees from stain, And, honored by the wise and good, With him departed to the wood. CANTO XIX THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCES