Whereat reply Thus made she to the Rishis: "None of these Am I, good saints. No goddess of the wood, Nor yet a mountain nor a river sprite; A woman ye behold, most only ones, Whose moving story I will tell you true. The Raja of Vidarbha is my sire, Bhima his name, and--Best of Twice-born!--know My husband is Nishadha's Chief, the famed, The wise and valiant and victorious Prince, The high and lordly Nala; of the gods A steadfast worshipper; of Bráhmanas The friend; his people's shield; honored and strong, Truth-speaking, skilled in arms, sagacious, just; Terrible to his foes, fortunate, lord Of many conquered towns; a godlike man, Princeliest of princes--Nala--one that hath A countenance like the full moon's for light, And eyes of lotus. This true offerer Of sacrifices, this close votary Of Vedas and Vedângas, in the war Deadly to enemies, like sun and moon For splendor--by some certain evil ones Being defied to dice, my virtuous Prince Was, by their wicked acts, of realm despoiled-- Wealth, jewels, all. I am his woful wife, The Princess Damayanti. Seeking him Through thickets have I roamed, over rough hills, By crag and river and the reedy lake, By marsh and waterfall and jungle-bush, In quest of him--my lord, my warrior, My hero--and still roam, uncomforted. Worshipful brethren! say if he hath come-- Nishadha's Chief, my Nala, hitherward Unto your pleasant homes--he, for whose sake I wander in the dismal pathless wood With bears and tigers haunted--terrible! Ah! if I find him not, ere there be passed Many more nights and days, peace will I win; For death shall set my mournful spirit free. What cause have I to live, lacking my Prince? Why should I longer breathe, whose heart is dead With sorrow for my lord?" To Bhima's child, So in the wood bewailing, made reply Those holy, truthful men: "Beautiful One! The future is for thee; fair will it fall! Our eyes, by long devotions opened, see-- Even now--thy lord; thou shalt behold him soon, Nishadha's chief, the famous Nala, strong In battle, loving justice. Yea, this Prince Thou wilt regain, Bhima's sad daughter! freed From troubles, purged of sin; and witness him-- With all his gems and glories--governing Nishadha once again, invincible, Joy of his friends and terror of his foes. Yea, Noblest, thou shalt have thy love anew In days to come." So speaking, from the sight Of Damayanti, at that instant, passed Hermits, with hermitage and holy fires, Evanishing. In wonderment she stood, Gazing bewildered. Then the Princess cried:-- "Was it in dream I saw them? Whence befell This unto me? Where are the brethren gone, The ring of huts, the pleasant stream that ran