The women of Bruj seeing the dust, which gods, men and sages search for, made an obeisance to it; and having placed it upon their heads, and entertaining a hope of meeting Krishnù proceeded onward; when lo! the traces of a woman’s feet became visible near the marks of the feet, which they had first beheld. They were surprised at the sight, and advancing further, they found a beautiful looking glass, studded with gems, on a bed of soft leaves. They began to question it. When it would not speak in consequence of the pain of separation from a loved object, they asked each other, “Friend! why did he take this with him?” Then, one, who knew the mutual feelings of lovers and their beloved, replied, “Friend! when the lover sat down to plait the hair of his beloved, and his lovely form was concealed from sight, his beloved then took the looking glass in her hand, and showed it to her lover. Then the image of Shree’s face was reflected from the mirror.” The cowherdesses were not at all angry at hearing this remark; but began to say, “She must have worshipped Shivù and Parvuttee well, and performed great penance, to be able to enjoy diversion with the lord of life in this retired manner, without fear.” O great king! all the cowherdesses, intoxicated with love, were thus idly talking, and wandering about in search of Krishnù, whilst Shree Radhika Jee, deriving great enjoyment from Huri, and thinking her beloved in a state of subserviency to her, considering herself greater than all others, and indulging in great presumptuousness of mind, said, “O beloved! I am not able to walk, please carry me on your shoulders.” On hearing this, Shree Krishnù Chund, the annihilator of pride, and acquainted with the secrets of the heart, smiled, and sitting down, said to her, “Come and sit on my shoulders.” When she put forth her hands to climb up, Shree Krishnù disappeared; and she remained standing in that posture, with her arms stretched out; just as lightning forces its way presumptuously from the clouds, or the angry moonbeams separate themselves from the moon. And the splendour of her fair form, escaping and spreading upon the earth, displayed as much beauty, as an elegant woman, standing upon ground of gold. Tears streamed from her eyes; and she could not drive away the bees, who overpowered by the sweet smell came and settled near her face. And heaving deep sighs, she wept so violently in her solitude in the jungle, distressed by the separation from Krishnù, that the animals, birds, trees and creepers, hearing her lamentations, began weeping also. And thus she exclaimed, “O lord! best of lovers, where have you gone, O self-willed Beharee! I am the slave of the asylum of thy feet. O sea of beneficence! have compassion on me.”