A king of men is Nala, like the gods. He that would curse a prince of such a mould, Thou foolish Kali, lays upon himself A sin to crush himself; the curse comes back And sinks him in the bottomless vast gulf Of Narak." Thus the gods to Kali spake, And mounted heavenward; whereupon that Shade, Frowning, to Dwapara burst forth: "My rage Beareth no curb. Henceforth in Nala I Will dwell; his kingdom I will make to fall; His bliss with Damayanti I will mar; And thou within the dice shalt enter straight, And help me, Dwapara! to drag him down," Into which compact entering, those repaired-- Kali and Dwapara--to Nala's house, And haunted in Nishadha, where he ruled, Seeking occasion 'gainst the blameless Prince. Long watched they; twelve years rolled ere Kali saw The fateful fault arrive; Nishadha's Lord, Easing himself, and sprinkling hands and lips With purifying water, passed to prayer, His feet unwashed, offending. Kali straight Possessed the heedless Raja, entering him. That hour there sat with Nala, Pushkara His brother; and the evil spirit hissed Into the ear of Pushkara: "Ehi! Arise, and challenge Nala at the dice. Throw with the Prince! it may be thou shalt win (Luck helping thee, and I) Nishadha's throne, Town, treasures, palace--thou mayest gain them all." And Pushkara, hearing Kali's evil voice, Made near to Nala, with the dice in hand (A great piece for the "Bull," and little ones For "Cows," and Kali hiding in the Bull). So Pushkara came to Nala's side and said:-- "Play with me, brother, at the 'Cows and Bull';" And, being put off, cried mockingly, "Nay, play!" Shaming the Prince, whose spirit chafed to leave A gage unfaced; but when Vidarbha's gem, The Princess, heard that challenge, Nala rose: "Yea, Pushkara, I will play!" fiercely he said; And to the game addressed. His gems he lost, Armlets and belt and necklet; next the gold Of the palace and its vessels; then the cars Yoked with swift steeds; and last, the royal robes: For, cast by cast, the dice against him fell, Bewitched by Kali; and, cast after cast, The passion of the dice kept hold on him, Until not one of all his faithfullest Could stay the madman's hand and gamester's heart Of who was named "Subduer of his Foes." The townsmen gathered with the ministers: Into that palace gate they thronged (my King!) To see their lord, if so they might abate This sickness of his soul. The charioteer, Forth standing from their midst, low worshipping, Spake thus to Damayanti: "Great Princess, Before thy door all the grieved city sits. Say to our lord for us, 'Thy folk are here; They mourn that evil fortunes hold their liege, Who was so high and just,'" Then she, deject,