‘Thou are proud in thy new shoots, I in the glorious excellences of my beloved; the bees resort to thee, to me the arrows shot from love’s bow; like me thou dost delight in the touch of thy dear one’s foot; all is alike for us both save only that, O tree Sorrowless, the creator hath made me a man of sorrows.’ kāmavyādhaçarāhatir na gaṇitā saṁjīvanī tvaṁ smṛtā no dagdho virahānalena jhaṭiti tvatsaṁgamāçāmṛtaiḥ nīto ’yaṁ divaso vicitralikhitaiḥ saṁkalparūpair mayā kiṁ vānyad dhṛdaye sthitāsi nanu me tatra svayaṁ sākṣiṇī. [464] ‘I have not recked of the wound given by love, the hunter, for the memory of thee hath been my elixir; the fire of separation hath not consumed me straightway because of the nectar of the hope of union with thee; all this day hath been spent by me in limning thy fancied form; nought else have I done, as thou thyself art witness, for dost thou not live in my heart?’ We may regret the loss of a work which contained verses as pretty as these, even on the outworn topic of Rāma and Sītā. It might be interesting to know whether Yaçovarman was successful in introducing any new element into the established plot. The play is cited in the commentary on the Daçarūpa [465] to illustrate the device called deception or humiliation (chalana) and the parallel cited is that of the treatment of Vāsavadattā in the Ratnāvalī. The definitions of the theory leave this idea far from clear; Viçvanātha seems to treat it as the bearing of insult for the sake of the end to be reached, and the allusion in the case of Sītā may be to her abandonment by Rāma as an act of duty. A much less favourable impression is left by the few fragments of the Udāttarāghava which are preserved. The poet seems to have affected the horrible, as two of his few stanzas deal with it; the better is: [466] jīyante jayino ’pi sāndratimiravrātair viyadvyāpibhir bhāsvantaḥ sakalā raver api rucaḥ kasmād akasmād amī etāç cograkabandharandhrarudhirair ādhmāyamānodarā muñcanty ānanakandarānalamucas tīvrā ravāḥ pheravāḥ. ‘The victors are vanquished; thick darkness invades the sky and triumphs over the brilliant rays of the sun; why this inexplicable event? Why do these jackals, whose bellies are swollen with the blood sucked from the wounds of bleeding corpses, and whose gaping jaws belch flame, utter these piercing cries?’ A somewhat flat passage illustrates the conflict of thought in Rāma’s mind when appealed to by Citramāya on the score that Lakṣmaṇa is in danger from a Rākṣasa: [467] vatsasyābhayavāridheḥ pratibhayam manye kathaṁ rākṣasāt trastaç caiṣa munir virauti manasaç cāsty eva me sambhramaḥ mā hāsīr Janakātmajām iti muhuḥ snehād gurur yācate na sthātuṁ na ca gantum ākulamater mūḍhasya me niçcayaḥ.