And the king said to the goblin: "O magic creature, neither of these reasons would be possible for a high-minded counsellor. But he thought: The king used to neglect his duties for the sake of ordinary women. What will happen now, when he loves a fairy? In spite of all my efforts, a terrible misfortune has happened.' I think that was why his heart broke." Then the magic goblin went back to his tree in a moment. And the king was still determined to catch him, and went once more to the sissoo tree. TWELFTH GOBLIN _The Brahman who died because Poison from a Snake in the Claws of a Hawk fell into a Dish of Food given him by a Charitable Woman. Who is to blame for his death?_ Then the King went back under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started as before. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him again: "O King, listen to a very condensed story." There is a city called Benares. In it lived a Brahman named Devaswami, whom the king honoured. He was very rich, and he had a son named Hariswami. This son had a wonderful wife, and her name was Beautiful. No doubt the Creator put together in her the priceless elements of charm and loveliness after his practice in making the nymphs of heaven. One night Hariswami was sleeping on a balcony cooled by the rays of the moon. And a fairy prince named Love-speed was flying through the air, and as he passed he saw Beautiful asleep beside her husband. He took her, still asleep, and carried her off through the air. Presently Hariswami awoke, and not seeing the mistress of his life, he rose in anxiety. And he wondered: "Oh, where has my wife gone? Is she angry with me? Or is she playing hide-and-seek with me, to see how I will take it?" So he roamed anxiously all over the balcony during the rest of the night. But he did not find her, though he searched as far as the garden. Then he was overcome by his sorrow and sobbed convulsively. "Oh, Beautiful, my darling! Fair as the moon! White as the moonlight! Was the night jealous of your beauty; did she carry you away? Your loveliness shamed the moon who refreshed me with beams cool as sandal; but now that you are gone, the same beams torment me like blazing coals, like poisoned arrows!" And as Hariswami lamented thus, the night came to an end, but his anguish did not end. The pleasant sun scattered the darkness, but could not scatter the blind darkness of Hariswami's madness. His pitiful lamentations increased a hundredfold, when the nightly cries of the birds ended. His relatives tried to comfort him, but he could not pluck up courage while his loved one was lost. He went here and there, sobbing out: "Here she stood. And here she bathed. And here she adorned herself. And here she played."