entering him. 
      That hour there sat with Nala, Pushkara
    His brother; and the evil spirit hissed
    Into the ear of Pushkara:  “Ehi! 
    Arise, and challenge Nala at the dice. 
    Throw with the Prince! it may be thou shalt win
    (Luck helping thee, and I) Nishadha’s throne,
    Town, treasures, palace—­thou mayest gain them all.” 
    And Pushkara, hearing Kali’s evil voice,
    Made near to Nala, with the dice in hand
    (A great piece for the “Bull,” and little ones
    For “Cows,” and Kali hiding in the Bull). 
    So Pushkara came to Nala’s side and said:—­
    “Play with me, brother, at the ’Cows and Bull’;”
    And, being put off, cried mockingly, “Nay, play!”
    Shaming the Prince, whose spirit chafed to leave
    A gage unfaced; but when Vidarbha’s gem,
    The Princess, heard that challenge, Nala rose: 
    “Yea, Pushkara, I will play!” fiercely he said;
    And to the game addressed. 
                              His gems he lost,
    Armlets and belt and necklet; next the gold
    Of the palace and its vessels; then the cars
    Yoked with swift steeds; and last, the royal robes: 
    For, cast by cast, the dice against him fell,
    Bewitched by Kali; and, cast after cast,
    The passion of the dice kept hold on him,
    Until not one of all his faithfullest
    Could stay the madman’s hand and gamester’s heart
    Of who was named “Subduer of his Foes.” 
      The townsmen gathered with the ministers: 
    Into that palace gate they thronged (my King!)
    To see their lord, if so they might abate
    This sickness of his soul.  The charioteer,
    Forth standing from their midst, low worshipping,
    Spake thus to Damayanti:  “Great Princess,
    Before thy door all the grieved city sits. 
    Say to our lord for us, ’Thy folk are here;
    They mourn that evil fortunes hold their liege,
    Who was so high and just,’” Then she, deject,
    Passed in, and to Nishadha’s ruler said,
    Her soft voice broken, and her bright eyes dimmed:—­
    “Raja, the people of thy town are here;
    Before our gates they gather, citizens
    And counsellors, desiring speech with thee;
    In lealty they come.  Wilt thou be pleased
    We open to them?  Wilt thou?” So she asked
    Again and yet again; but not one word
    To that sad lady with the lovely brows
    Did Nala answer, wholly swallowed up
    Of Kali and the gaming; so that those—­
    The citizens and counsellors—­cried out,
    “Our lord is changed!  He is not Nala now!”
    And home returned, ashamed and sorrowful;
    Whilst ceaselessly endured that foolish play
    Moon after moon—­the Prince the loser still. 
      Then Damayanti, seeing so estranged
    Her lord, the praised in song, the chief of men,
    Watching, all self-possessed,