savyājaiḥ çapathaiḥ priyeṇa vacasā cittānuvṛttyādhikam vailakṣyeṇa pareṇa padapatanair vākyaiḥ sakhīnāṁ muhuḥ pratyāsattim upāgatā na hi tathā devī rudatyā yathā prakṣālyeva tayaiva bāṣpasalilaiḥ kopo ’panītaḥ svayam. ‘It was not so much by my false oaths of devotion, my loving words, my coaxing, my depths of dejection, and falling at her feet, or the advice of her friends, that the queen was appeased as that her anger was wiped away by the cleansing water of her own bitter tears.’ Pretty, if not appropriate, is the king’s address to the fire: [375] virama virama vahne muñca dhūmānubandham: prakaṭayasi kim uccair arciṣāṁ cakravālam? virahahutabhujāhaṁ yo na dagdhaḥ priyāyāḥ: pralayadahanabhāsā tasya kiṁ tvaṁ karoṣi? ‘Stay, stay, fire; cease thy constant smoke; why dost thou raise aloft thy circle of flames? What canst thou avail against me, whom the fire of severance from my beloved, fierce as the flame that shall consume the universe, could not consume?’ There is excellent taste and propriety in Vatsa’s address to the dead Kosala king: [376] mṛtyur api te çlāghyo yasya çatravo ’py evaṁ puruṣakāraṁ varṇayanti. ‘Even death for thee is glorious when even thy foes must thus depict thy manly prowess.’ Such a phrase may reveal to us the true Harṣa himself, the winner of many victories, and the hero of one great disaster. The Nāgānanda strikes varied notes; there is fire and enthusiasm in the assurances which Mitrāvasu gives the prince of the swift overthrow of his enemy, Matan̄ga, at the hands of his faithful Siddhas, will he but give the word: [377] saṁsarpadbhiḥ samantāt kṛtasakalaviyanmārgayānair vimānaiḥ kurvāṇāḥ prāvṛṣīva sthagitaravirucaḥ çyāmatāṁ vāsarasya ete yātāç ca sadyas tava vacanam itaḥ prāpya yuddhāya siddhāḥ siddhaṁ codvṛttaçatrukṣayabhayavinamadrājakaṁ te svarājyam. ‘With their chariots, meeting together and o’erspreading the whole surface of the sky as they speed along, darkening the day as when the sun’s rays are hidden in the rain, my Siddhas await but the bidding to fare forthwith hence to the battle; but say the word and thy haughty foe shall fall, and thy kingdom be restored to thee, while the princes bow before thee in fear of his fate.’ Jīmūtavāhana, however, has other views of his duty: [378] svaçarīram api parārthe yaḥ khalu dadyām ayācitaḥ kṛpayā rājyasya kṛte sa katham prāṇivadhakrauryam anumanye? ‘Gladly, unasked, would I give my own life for another in compassion; how then could I consent to the cruel slaughter of men merely to win a realm?’ The saying is essential to the drama, for it leads immediately to the determination of the prince to sacrifice himself for the Nāga. There is dignity and force in the admonition addressed by the dying hero to the repentant Garuḍa who begs him to command him: [379]