“when gods are present in person, direct your desires toward a mortal?  Not so!  Let your inclination dwell with them, the creators of the world.  Remember, too, that a mortal who does something to displease the gods is doomed to death.  Therefore, you with the faultless limbs, save me by choosing the most worthy of the gods.  Hesitate no longer.  Your husband must be one of the gods.”

Then said Damayanti, while her eyes were diffused with anguish-born tears:  “My reverence to the gods!  As husband I choose you, mighty ruler on earth.  What I say to you is immutable truth.”  “I am here now as messenger of the gods, and cannot, therefore, plead my own cause.  Later I shall have a chance to speak for myself,” said Nala; and Damayanti said, smiling, while tears choked her voice: 

“I shall arrange that you as well as the gods are present on the day of my husband-choice.  Then I shall choose you in the presence of the immortals.  In that way no blame can fall on anyone.”

Returning to the gods, Nala told them just what happened, not omitting her promise that she would choose him in presence of the gods.  The day now was approaching when the kings, who, urged by love-longings, had assembled, were to appear before the maiden.  With their beautiful hair, noses, eyes, and brows, these royal personages shone like the stars in heaven.  They fixed their gaze on the maiden’s limbs, and wherever the eyes first rested there they remained fixed immovably.  But the four gods had all assumed the exact form and appearance of Nala, and when Damayanti was about to choose him she saw five men all alike.  How could she tell which of them was the king, her beloved?  After a moment’s thought she uttered an invocation to the gods calling upon them to assume the characteristics by which they differ from mortals.  The gods, moved by her anguish, her faith in the power of truth, her intelligence and passionate devotion, heard her prayer and forthwith they appeared to her free from perspiration, with fixed gaze, ever fresh wreath, free from dust; and none of them, while standing, touched the floor; whereas King Nala betrayed himself by throwing a shadow, by having dust and perspiration on his body, a withered wreath, and eyelids that winked.

Thereupon the big-eyed maiden timidly seized him by the hem of his garment and put a beautiful wreath on his shoulders.  Thus did she choose him to be her husband; and the gods granted them special favors.[279]

According to Schroeder, the Hindoos are “the romantic nation” among the ancients, as the Germans are among the moderns; and Albrecht Weber says that when, a little more than a century ago, Europe first became acquainted with Sanscrit literature, it was noticed that in the amorous poetry of India in particular the sentimental qualities of modern verse were traced in a much higher degree than they had been found in Greek and Roman literature.  All this is doubtless true.  The Hindoos appear