Rituparna was conducted to his chamber for rest and refreshment by a company of royal servants, and Várshneya went with them. Meanwhile Vahuka led his horses to the stables, and Damayantí descended to her chamber, thinking again and again that the sound of the coming chariot was like to the sound of Nala drawing nigh. So she called her fair handmaid, who was named Keśiní, and said unto her: “Go forth and speak to the misshapen charioteer with short arms, for methinks he is Nala.... Ask thou him who he is, and be mindful of his answer.” The handmaiden went forth and spoke unto Váhuka, saying: “Lo! the Princess Damayantí would fain know whence ye come and for what purpose.” Said Vahuka: “King Rituparna hath heard that the swayamvara is to be held at dawn to-morrow, so he set forth from Ayodhya and came hither swifter than the wind. I am his charioteer.” Keśiní asked him: “Who is the third man who hath come?” Said Váhuka: “Várshneya is his name. He departed unto Ayodhya when Nala fled away.... I am skilled in taming steeds and in preparing viands.” The handmaiden then asked: “And doth this Varshneya know whither Nala hath fled and how he fares. Hath he told thee aught regarding him?” Said Váhuka: “Várshneya carried away the children of Nala from Nishadha, but he knows not aught of the rajah, O fair one. Indeed, no man knoweth. He hath assumed a strange form, and wanders disguised about the world.... Nala alone knoweth, nor will he reveal himself.” Keśiní then spake, saying: “When the holy Brahman went unto the city of Ayodhya he uttered those words of Damayantí once and once again: ‘_Whither art thou gone, O gambler, who didst sever my garment in twain? Thou didst leave thy loved one as she lay slumbering in the savage wood. Lo! she is awaiting thy return. By day and by night she sitteth alone, consumed by her grief. Oh! hear her prayer and have compassion, thou noble hero, because that she ever weepeth for thee in the depths of her despair._’ Now speak again, I pray thee, the words which thou didst utter to the Brahman, for they gave healing to the stricken heart of Damayantí. Fain would the princess hear that speech once more.” Then was the soul of Nala rent with grief, hearing the message of Damayantí, and with tearful voice he said, repeating his former utterance: “_In the excess of her sorrow a noble woman will compose herself and remain constant, and so win heaven by her virtues. She is protected by the breastplate of her chastity, and will suffer no harm. Nor will she yield to anger, although she be deserted by her lord, whose robe the birds have taken away, leaving him in sore distress. She will not be moved to wrath against her husband, the sorrow-stricken and famine-wasted, who hath been bereft of his kingdom and despoiled of happiness._” Nala could scarce restrain his emotion as he spoke these words. Then the fair Keśiní hastened unto Damayantí and told all.