In thy son’s house, the King’s—­the very same,
    Since like to her for grace no woman lives
    Of all fair women.  Where her eyebrows meet
    A pretty mole, born with her, should be seen
    A little lotus-bud—­not visible
    By reason of the dust of toil which clouds
    Her face and veils its moon-like beauty—­that
    The wondrous Maker on the rare work stamped
    To be His Mark.  But as the waxing moon
    Goes thin and darkling for awhile, then rounds
    The crescent’s rims with splendors, so this Queen
    Hath lost not queenliness.  Being now obscured,
    Soiled with the grime of chores, unbeautified,
    She shows true gold.  The fire which trieth gold
    Denoteth less itself by instant heat
    Than Damayanti by her goodlihood. 
    As first sight knew I her.  She bears that mole.” 
      Whilst yet Sudeva spake (O King of men!),
    Sunanda from the slave’s front washed away
    The gathered dust, and forth that mark appeared
    ’Twixt Damayanti’s brows, as when clouds break,
    And in the sky the moon, the night-maker,
    Glitters to view.  Seeing the spot awhile,
    Sunanda and the mother of the King
    Gazed voiceless; then they clasped her neck and wept
    Rejoicing, till the Queen, staying her tears,
    Exclaimed:  “My sister’s daughter, dear! thou art,
    By this same mark.  Thy mother and myself
    Were sisters by one father—­he that rules
    Dasarna, King Sudaman.  She was given
    To Bhima, and to Virabahu I.
    Once at Dasarna, in my father’s house,
    I saw thee, newly born.  Thy race and mine,
    Princess, are one:  henceforward, therefore, here
    As I am, Damayanti, shalt thou be.” 
      With gladdened heart did Damayanti bend
    Before her mother’s sister, answering thus:—­
    “Peaceful and thankful dwelled I here with thee,
    Being unknown, my every need supplied,
    My life and honor by thy succor safe,
    Yet, Maharajni, even than this dear home
    One would be dearer:  ’tis so many days
    Since we were parted.  Suffer me to go
    Where those my tender little ones were led;
    So long—­poor babes!—­of me and of their sire
    Bereft.  If, lady, thou dost think to show
    Kindness to me, this is my wish:  to wend
    Unto Vidarbha swiftly; wilt thou bid
    They bear me thither?”
                           Was no sooner heard
    That fond desire, than the queen-mother gave
    Willing command; and soon an ample troop,
    The King consenting, gathered for her guard. 
    So was she sent upon a palanquin,
    With soldiers, pole-bearers, and meat and drink,
    And garments as befitted—­happier—­home. 
      Thus to Vidarbha came its Pride again,
    By no long road; and joyously her kin
    Brought the sweet Princess in, and welcomed her. 
    In peace and safety all her