‘“Thou art my life, my second heart, thou the moonlight of my eyes, the ambrosia for my body thou”: with these and a hundred other endearments didst thou win her simple soul, and now alas—but what need to say more?’ Elsewhere we have less simplicity, but in these cases we must distinguish carefully between those instances in which the difficulty and complexity of expression serve to illustrate the thought, and those in which the words are made to stand in lieu of ideas. In many cases Bhavabhūti may justly claim to have achieved substantial success, even when he is not precisely simple. The effect of love on Mādhava is effectively expressed: [417] paricchedātītaḥ sakalavacanānām aviṣayaḥ punarjanmany asminn anubhavapathaṁ yo na gatavān vivekapradhvaṅsād upacitamahāmohagahano vikāraḥ ko ’py antar jaḍayati ca tāpaṁ ca kurute. ‘An emotion, evading determination, inexpressible by words, never before experienced in this birth of mine, wholly confusing because of the impossibility of examination, is at once numbing me within and filling me with a torment of fire.’ The poet’s command of the philosophical conceptions of his day is shown in the verse following: paricchedavyaktir bhavati na puraḥsthe ’pi viṣaye bhavaty abhyaste ’pi smaraṇam atathābhāvavirasam na saṁtāpacchedo himasarasi vā candramasi vā mano niṣṭhāçūnyam bhramati ca kim apy ālikhati ca. ‘Though an object be before one’s gaze, determination is not easy; brought back, memory intervenes to introduce an element of falsity; neither in the cool lake nor in the moonbeams can passion be quenched; my mind, powerless to attain a fixed result, wanders, and yet records something.’ We have a further effective picture of the physical effect of love on Mādhava when he seeks to assuage his sorrows by depicting his beloved from memory: [418] vāraṁ vāraṁ tirayati dṛçor udgamam bāṣpapūras tatsaṁkalpopahitajaḍima stambham abhyeti gātram sadyaḥ svidyann ayam aviratotkampalolān̄gulīkaḥ pāṇir lekhāvidhiṣu nitarāṁ vartate kiṁ karomi. ‘Time after time the tears that stream from my eyes blind my sight; my body is paralysed by the numbness born of the thought of her; when I seek to draw, my hand grows moist and trembles incessantly; ah, what is there that I can do?’ It is, however, easy to pass into exaggeration, as in: [419] līneva pratibimbiteva likhitevotkīrṇarūpeva ca pratyupteva ca vajralepaghaṭitevāntarnikhāteva ca sā naç cetasi kīliteva viçikhaiç cetobhuvaḥ pañcabhiç cintāsaṁtatitantujālanibiḍasyūteva ca lagnā priyā. ‘So have I grasped my dear one that she is as it were merged in me, reflected in me, depicted in me, her form mingled in me, cast into me, cemented with adamant to me, planted within me, pinned to my soul by the five arrows of love, firmly sewn into the fabric of my thought continuum.’