"He, by whose dire imprecation--Nala this dread suffering bears, May he far surpass in suffering--all that Nala suffers now, May the evil one, to evil--who the blameless Nala drives, Smitten by a curse as fatal--live a dark unblessed life." Thus her absent lord lamenting--that high-minded raja's queen, Every-where her lord went seeking--in the satyr-haunted wood.[72] Like a maniac, Bhima's daughter--wandered wailing here and there; And "alas! alas! my husband"--every-where her cry was heard. Her beyond all measure wailing--like the osprey screaming shrill, Miserably still deploring--still renewing her lament. Suddenly king Bhima's daughter--as she wandered near his lair, Seized a huge gigantic serpent--in his raging famine fierce. In the grasp of that fierce serpent--round about with terror girt, Not herself she pities only--pities she Nishadha's king. "O my guardian, thus unguarded--in this savage forest seized, Seized by this terrific serpent--wherefore art not thou at hand? How will't be, when thou rememberest--once again thy faithful wife, From this dreadful curse delivered--mind, and sense, and wealth returned? When thou'rt weary, when thou'rt hungry--when thou'rt fainting with fatigue, Who will soothe, O blameless Nala--all thy weariness, thy woe." Then a huntsman as he wandered--in the forest jungle thick, As he heard her thus bewailing--in his utmost haste drew near. In the grasp when he beheld her--of that long-eyed serpent fell, Instant did the nimble huntsman--rapidly as he came on, Pierce that unresisting serpent--with a sharp and mortal shaft: In her sight he slew that serpent--skill'd in slaughter of the chase. Her released he from her peril--washed he then with water pure, And with sylvan food refreshed her--and with soothing words address'd: "Who art thou that roam'st the forest--with the eyes of the gazelle; How to this extreme of misery--noble lady, hast thou fallen?" Damayanti, by the huntsman--thus in soothing tone addressed, All the story of her misery-told him, as it all befell; Her, scant-clothed in half a garment--with soft swelling limbs and breast, Form of youthful faultless beauty--and her fair and moonlike face, And her eyes with brows dark arching--and her softly-melting speech, Saw long time that wild beast hunter--kindled all his heart with love. Then with winning voice that huntsman--bland beginning his discourse, Fain with amorous speech would soothe her--she his dark intent perceived. Damayanti, chaste and faithful,--soon as she his meaning knew, In the transport of her anger--her indignant soul took fire. In his wicked thought the dastard--her yet powerless to subdue, On the unsubdued stood gazing--as like some bright flame she shone. Damayanti, in her sorrow--of her realm, her lord bereft,