Guarded from grief and hurt--Chieftain of men! By this kind poison. In the fields of war Henceforth the victory always falls to thee; Go joyous, therefore, Prince; give thyself forth For 'Vahûka, the charioteer:' repair To Rituparna's city, who is skilled In play, and dwells in fair Ayodhyâ. Wend thou, Nishadha! thither; he will teach Great subtlety in numbers unto thee, Exchanging this for thine own matchless gift Of taming horses. From the lordly line Descended of Ikshvaku, glad and kind The King will be; and thou, learning of him His deepest act of dice, wilt win back all, And clasp again thy Princess. Therefore waste No thought on woes. I tell thee truth! thy realm Thou shalt regain; and when the time is come That thou hast need to put thine own form on, Call me to mind, O Prince, and tie this cloth Around thy body. Wearing it, thy shape Thou shalt resume." Therewith the serpent gave A magic twofold robe, not wove on earth, Which (O thou son of Kuru!) Nala took; And so the snake, transformed, vanished away. The great snake being gone, Nishadha's Chief Set forth, and on the tenth day entered in At Rituparna's town; there he besought The presence of the Raja, and spake thus:-- "I am the chariot-driver, Vahûka. There is not on this earth another man Hath gifts like mine to tame and guide the steed; Moreover, thou mayest use me in nice needs And dangerous, where kings lack faithful hearts. Specially skilful I am in dressing meats; And whatso other duties may befall, Though they be weighty, I shall execute, If, Rituparna, thou wilt take me in." "I take thee," quoth the King. "Dwell here with me. Such service as thou knowest, render us. 'Tis, Vahûka, forever in my heart To have my steeds the swiftest; be thy task To train me horses like the wind for speed; My charioteer I make thee, and thy wage Ten thousand gold suvernas. Thou wilt have For fellows, Varshneya and Jivala; With those abiding, lodge thou happy here." So entertained and honored of the King, In Rituparna's city Nala dwelled, Lodging with Varshneya and Jivala. There sojourned he (my Raja!), thinking still Of sweet Vidarbha's Princess day by day; And sunset after sunset one sad strain He sang: "Where resteth she that roamed the wood Hungry and parched and worn, but always true? Doth she remember yet her faultful lord? Ah, who is near her now?" So it befell Jivala heard him ever sighing thus, And questioned: "Who is she thou dost lament? Say, Vahûka! fain would I know her name. Long life be thine; but tell me who he is, The faultful man that was the lady's lord." And Nala answered him: "There lives a man, Evil and rash, that had a noble wife. False to his word he was; and thus it fell