her handmaiden
    To Vahuka, that she might question him. 
      “Go, Keshini,” the Princess said; “inquire
    Who is that man upon the driving-seat,
    Misshapen, with the shrunken arm.  Approach
    Composedly, question him winningly
    With greetings kind, and bid him answer thee
    According to the truth.  I feel at heart
    A doubt—­a hope—­that this, perchance, may be
    My Lord and Prince; there is some new-born joy
    Fluttering within my breast.  Accost him, girl;
    And, ere thou partest, what Parnada said,
    Say thou, and hear him answer, blameless one,
    And bring it on thy lips!”
                                Then went the maid
    Demurely, and accosted Vahuka,
    While Damayanti watched them from the roof.
      “Kushalam te bravimi—­health and peace
    I wish thee!” said she.  “Wilt thou answer true
    What Damayanti asks?  She sends to ask
    Whence set ye forth, and wherefore are ye come
    Hither?  Vidarbha’s Princess fain would know.” 
      “’Twas told my Raja,” Vahuka replied,
    “That Damayanti for the second turn
    Holds her Swayamvara:  the Brahman’s word
    Was, “This shall be to-morrow.”  So he sped,
    Hearing that news, with steeds which in one day
    Fly fifty yojanas, swift as the winds,
    Exceeding fleet.  His charioteer am I.” 
      “Who, then,” Keshini asked, “is he that rode
    The third? whence cometh he, and what his race? 
    And thou thyself whence sprung? and tell me why
    Thou servest thus?”
                          Then Vahuka replied:—­
    “Varshneya is the third who rode with us,
    The famous charioteer of Nala he: 
    When thy Prince fled, he went to Koshala
    And took our service.  I in horse-taming
    And dressing meat have skill; so am I made
    King Rituparna’s driver and his cook.” 
      “Knoweth Varshneya, then, where Nala fled?”
    Inquired the maid; “and did he tell thee this,
    Or what spake he?”
                      “Of that unhappy Prince
    He brought the children hither, and then went
    Even where he would, of Nala wotting nought;
    Nor wotteth any man, fair damsel! more. 
    Hidden from mortal eyes Nishadha lives,
    Wandering the world, his very body changed. 
    Of Nala only Nala’s own heart knows,
    And by no sign doth he bewray himself.” 
      Keshini said:  “That Brahman who did wend
    First to Ayodhya bore a verse to say
    Over and over, everywhere—­strange words,
    Wove by a woman’s wit.  Listen to these:—­

      ’Whither art thou departed, cruel lover,
        Who stole the half of thy beloved’s cloth,
      And left her to awaken and discover
        The wrong thou wroughtest to the love of both? 
      She, as thou didst command, a sad watch keepeth,
        With woful heart wearing the rended dress. 
      Prince, hear her cry who thus forever weepeth;
        Be mindful, hero; comfort her distress!’