She was, however, sorely embarrassed on arriving there, to find five Nalas before her, for each of the gods had assumed the form of the young prince after the latter had reported what Damayanti had said.  Unable to distinguish between the gods and her lover, Damayanti prayed so fervently that she was able to discern that four of her suitors gazed at her with unwinking eyes, exuded no perspiration, and cast no shadow, while the fifth betrayed all these infallible signs of mortality.  She, therefore, selected the real Nala, upon whom the four gods bestowed invaluable gifts, including absolute control over fire and water.

The young couple were perfectly happy for some time, although a wicked demon (Kali)—­who had arrived too late at the Bride’s Choice—­was determined to trouble their bliss.  He therefore watched husband and wife in hopes of finding an opportunity to injure them, but it was only in the twelfth year of their marriage that Nala omitted the wonted ablutions before saying his prayers.  This enabled the demon to enter his heart and inspire him with such a passion for gambling that he soon lost all he possessed.

His wife, seeing her remonstrances vain, finally ordered a charioteer to convey her children to her father’s, and they had barely gone when Nala came out of the gambling hall, having nothing left but a garment apiece for himself and his wife.  So the faithful Damayanti followed him out of the city into the forest, the winner having proclaimed that no help should be given to the exiled king or queen.  Almost starving, Nala, hoping to catch some birds which alighted near him, flung over them as a net his only garment.  These birds, having been sent by the demon to rob him of his last possession, flew away with the cloth, calling out to him that they were winged dice sent by Kali.

  Over them his single garment—­spreading light, he wrapped them round: 
  Up that single garment bearing—­to the air they sprang away;
  And the birds above him hovering—­thus in human accents spake,
  Naked as they saw him standing—­on the earth, and sad, and lone: 
  “Lo, we are the dice, to spoil thee—­thus descended, foolish king! 
  While thou hadst a single garment—­all our joy was incomplete.”

Husband and wife now wander on, until one night Nala, arising softly, cut his wife’s sole garment in two, and, wrapping himself in part of it, forsook her during her sleep, persuading himself that if left alone she would return to her father and enjoy comfort.  The poem gives a touching description of the husband’s grief at parting with his sleeping wife, of her frenzy on awakening, and of her pathetic appeals for her husband to return.