Wearing no ornaments; and all alone
    Wanderest—­not fearing men—­by some spell safe.” 
      Hearing which words, the child of Bhima spake
    Gratefully this:  “A woful woman I,
    And woful wife, but faithful to my vows;
    High-born, but like a servant, like a slave,
    Lodging where it may hap, and finding food
    From the wild roots and fruits wherever night
    Brings me my resting-place.  Yet is my lord
    A prince noble and great, with countless gifts
    Endued; and him I followed faithfully
    As ’t were his shadow, till hard fate decreed
    That he should fall into the rage of dice:—­
    And, worsted in that play, into the wood
    He fled, clad in one cloth, frenzied and lone. 
    And I his steps attended in the wood,
    Comforting him, my husband.  But it chanced,
    Hungry and desperate, he lost his cloth;
    And I—­one garment bearing—­followed still
    My unclad lord, despairing, reasonless,
    Through many a weary night not slumbering. 
    But when, at length, a little while I slept,
    My Prince abandoned me, rending away
    Half of my garment, leaving there his wife,
    Who never wrought him wrong.  That lord I seek
    By day and night, with heart and soul on fire—­
    Seek, but still find not; though he is to me
    Brighter than light which gleams from lotus-cups,
    Divine as are the immortals, dear as breath,
    The master of my life, my pride, my joy!”
      Whom, grieving so, her sweet eyes blind with tears,
    Gently addressed Subahu’s mother—­sad
    To hear as she to tell.  “Stay with us here,
    Thou ill-starred lady.  Great the friendliness
    I have for thee.  The people of our court
    Shall thy lost husband seek; or, it may be,
    He too will wander hither of himself
    By devious paths:  yea, mournful one, thy lord
    Thou wilt regain, abiding with us here.” 
      And Damayanti, bowing, answered thus
    Unto the Queen:  “I will abide with thee,
    O mother of illustrious sons, if so
    They feed me not on orts, nor seek from me
    To wash the feet of comers, nor that I
    Be set to speak with any stranger-men
    Before the curtain; and, if any man
    Sue me, that he be punished; and if twice,
    Then that he die, guilty of infamy. 
    This is my earnest prayer; but Brahmanas
    Who seek my husband, or bear news of him,
    Such will I speak with.  If it may be thus,
    Gladly would I abide, great lady, here;
    If otherwise, it is not on my mind
    To sojourn longer.” 
                            Very tenderly
    Quoth the queen-mother:  “All that thou dost ask
    We will ordain.  The gods reward thy love,
    Which hath such honor!” Comforting her so,
    To the king’s daughter, young Sunanda, spake
    The Maharajni:  “See, Sunanda, here