Vaisampayana said, “Binding her black, soft, fine, long and faultless tresses with crisped ends into a knotted braid, Draupadi of black eyes and sweet smiles, throwing it upon her right shoulders, concealed it by her cloth.  And she wore a single piece of a black and dirty though costly cloth.  And dressing herself as a Sairindhri, she began to wander hither and thither in seeming affliction.  And beholding her wandering, men and women came to her hastily and addressed her, saying, ‘Who are you?  And what do you seek?’ And she replied, ’I am a king’s Sairindhri.  I desire to serve any one that will maintain me.’  But beholding her beauty and dress, and hearing also her speech that was so sweet, the people could not take her for a maid-servant in search of subsistence.  And it came to pass that while looking this way and that from the terrace, Virata’s beloved queen, daughter of the king of Kekaya, saw Draupadi.  And beholding her forlorn and clad in a single piece of cloth, the queen addressed her saying, ’O beautiful one, who are you, and what do you seek?’ Thereupon, Draupadi answered her, saying, ’O foremost of queens, I am Sairindhri.  I will serve anybody that will maintain me.’  Then Sudeshna said, ’What you say (regarding your profession) can never be compatible with so much beauty. (On the contrary) you might well be the mistress of servants both, male and female.  Your heels are not prominent, and your thighs touch each other.  And your intelligence is great, and your navel deep, and your words solemn.  And your great toes, and bust and hips, and back and sides, and toe-nails, and palms are all well-developed.  And your palms, soles, and face are ruddy.  And your speech is sweet even as the voice of the swan.  And your hair is beautiful, and your bust shapely, and you are possessed of the highest grace.  And your hips and bust are plump.  And like a Kashmerean mare you are furnished with every auspicious mark.  And your eye-lashes are (beautiful) bent, and your nether-lip is like the ruddy ground.  And your waist is slender, and your neck bears lines that resemble those of the conch.  And your veins are scarcely visible.  Indeed, your countenance is like the full moon, and your eyes resemble the leaves of the autumnal lotus, and your body is fragrant as the lotus itself.  Verily, in beauty you resemble Sri herself, whose seat is the autumnal lotus.  Tell me, O beautiful damsel, who thou art.  Thou canst never be a maidservant.  Art thou a Yakshi, a Goddess, a Gandharvi, or an Apsara?  Art thou the daughter of a celestial, or art thou a female Naga?  Art thou the guardian goddess of some city, a Vidyadhari, or a Kinnari,—­or art thou Rohini herself?  Or art thou Alamvusha, or Misrakesi, Pundarika, or Malini, or the queen of Indra, or of Varuna?  Or, art thou the spouse of Viswakarma, or of the creative Lord himself?  Of these goddesses who art renowned in the celestial regions, who art thou, O graceful one?’