Be his words, O best of Brahmins--treasured and brought home to me, Lest he haply should discover--that by my command ye speak, That again ye may approach him--do ye this without delay. Whether he be of the wealthy--whether of the poor he be; Be he covetous of riches--learn ye all he would desire." Thus addressed, went forth the Brahmins--to the realms on every side, Seeking out the royal Nala--in his dark concealed distress. They through royal cities, hamlets--pastoral dwellings, hermits' cells, Nala every-where went seeking--yet those Brahmins found him not. All in every part went speaking--in the language they were taught; In the words of Damayanti--spake they in the ears of men. BOOK XVIII. Long the time that passed, a Brahmin--wise Parnada was his name, Home returning to the city--thus to Bhima's daughter spake: "Damayanti! royal Nala--as I sought Nishadha's king, Came I to Ayodhya's city--the Bhangasuri's abode. Stood before me, eager listening--to the words thou bad'st us speak, He, the prosperous Rituparna--all excelling! such his name. Thus as spake I, answered nothing--Rituparna, king of men; Nor of all that full assemblage--more than once addressed by me. By the king dismissed, when sate I--in a solitary place, One of Rituparna's household--Vahuca, his name, drew near, Charioteer of that great raja--with short arms and all deformed, Skilled to drive the rapid chariot--skilled the viands to prepare. He, when much he'd groaned in anguish--and had wept again, again, First his courteous salutation--made, then spake in words like these: Even in the extreme of misery--noble women still preserve, Over their ownselves the mastery--by their virtues winning heaven; Of their faithless lords abandoned--anger feel not even then. In the breastplate of their virtue--noble women live unharmed. By the wretched, by the senseless--by the lost to every joy, She by such a lord forsaken--yet to anger will not yield. Against him his sustenance seeking--of his robe by birds despoiled, Him consumed with utmost misery--still no wrath the dark-hued feels; Treated well, or ill entreated--when her husband she beholds, Spoiled of bliss, bereft of kingdom--famine-wasted, worn with woe. Having heard the stranger's language--hither hasted I to come. Thou hast heard, be thine the judgment--to the king relate thou all." To Parnada having listened--with her eyes o'erflowed with tears, Secretly went Damayanti--and her mother thus addressed: "Let not what I speak to Bhima--O my mother, be made known-- In thy presence to Sudeva--best of Brahmins, I would speak. Let not this my secret counsel--to king Bhima be disclosed; This the object we must compass--if thy daughter thou wouldst please, As myself was to my kindred--swiftly by Sudeva brought,