On the instant she found language--uttered loud her curse of wrath,[73]-- "As my pure and constant spirit--swerves not from Nishadha's lord, Instant so may this base hunter--lifeless fall upon the earth." Scarce that single word was uttered--suddenly that hunter bold Down upon the earth fell lifeless--like a lightning blasted tree. BOOK XII. Slain that savage wild-beast hunter--onward went the lotus-eyed, Through the dread, and desert forest--ringing with the cricket's song; Full of lions, pards, and tigers--stags, and buffalos, and bears, Where all kinds of birds were flocking--and wild men and robbers dwelt. Trees of every form and stature[74]--every foliage, every name; Pregnant with rich mines of metal--many a mountain it enclosed, Many a shady resonant arbour--many a deep and wondrous glen; Many a lake, and pool, and river--birds and beasts of every shape. She, in forms terrific round her--serpents, elves, and giants saw:[75] Pools, and tanks of lucid water--and the shaggy tops of hills, Flowing streams and headlong torrents--saw, and wondered at the sight. And the princess of Vidarbha--gazed where in their countless herds, Buffalos and bears were feeding--boars, and serpents of the wood. Safe in virtue, bright in beauty--glorious and of high resolve, Now alone, Vidarbha's daughter--wandering, her lost Nala sought. Yet no fear king Bhima's daughter--for herself might deign to feel, Travelling the dreary forest--only for her lord distressed; Him she mourned, that noble princess--him in bitterest anguish wailed, Every limb with sorrow trembling--stood she on a beetling rock; "Monarch, with broad chest capacious--monarch with the sinewy arm, Me in this dread forest leaving--whither hast thou fled away? Thou the holy Aswamedha--thou each sacrificial rite, Hast performed, to me, me only--in thy holy faith thou'st failed. That which thou, O best of husbands--in mine hearing hast declared, Thy most solemn vow remember--call to mind thy plighted faith. Of the swift-winged swans the language--uttered, monarch, by thy side, That thyself, before my presence--didst renew, bethink thee well. Thou the Vedas, thou the Angas--with the Upangas oft hast read, Of each heaven-descended volume--one and simple is the truth. Therefore, of thy foes the slayer!--reverence thou the sacred truth Of thy solemn plighted promise--in my presence sworn so oft. Am not I the loved so dearly--purely, sinlessly beloved; In this dark and awful forest--wherefore dost thou not reply? Here with monstrous jaws wide yawning--with his fierce and horrid form, Gapes the forest king to slay me--and thou art not here to save. None but I, thou'st said, for ever--none but I to thee am dear! Make this oft-repeated language--make this oft-sworn promise true.