On arriving at the court of Damayanti’s father, Nala is summoned into the presence of his wife, who, although she does not recognize him in his new form, insists he must be her spouse, for no one else can drive as he does or has the power which he displays over fire and water.  At this moment the sway of the demon ends, and Nala, restored to his wonted form, rapturously embraces his wife and children.

  Even as thus the wind was speaking,—­flowers fall showering all around: 
  And the gods sweet music sounded—­on the zephyr floating light.

Then, thanks to his new skill in dicing, Nala recovers all he has lost, and is able to spend the rest of his life in peace and happiness with the faithful Damayanti.

THE STORY OF SAVITRI AND SATYAVAN

Once upon a time a king, mourning because he was childless, spent many years fasting and praying in hopes that offspring would be granted him.  One day the goddess of the sun rose out of his sacrificial fire to promise him a daughter, more beauteous than any maiden ever seen before.  The king rejoiced, and, when this child was born, every one declared little Savitri the prettiest maiden ever seen.  As she grew up she became more and more beautiful, until all the surrounding kings longed to marry her, but dared not propose.  Seeing this, her father conferred upon her the right to select her own spouse, and the princess began to travel from court to court inspecting all the marriageable princes.  One day, in the course of these wanderings, she paused beneath a banyan tree, where a blind old hermit had taken up his abode.  He was just telling the princess that he dwelt there with his wife and son, when a young man appeared, bringing wood for the sacrifice.  This youth was Satyavan, his son, who was duly astonished to behold a lovely princess.

On returning home, Savitri informed her father her choice was made, for she had decided to marry the hermit’s son!  This news appalled the king, because the prime minister assured him Satyavan—­although son of a banished king—­was doomed to die at the end of the year.

Knowing the unenviable lot of a Hindu widow, the king implored Savitri to choose another mate, but the girl refused, insisting she would rather live one year with Satyavan than spend a long life with any one else!

                      But Savitri replied: 
  “Once falls a heritage; once a maid yields
  Her maidenhood; once doth a father say,
  ‘Choose, I abide thy choice.’  These three things done,
  Are done forever.  Be my prince to live
  A year, or many years; be he so great
  As Narada hath said, or less than this;
  Once have I chosen him, and choose not twice: 
  My heart resolved, my mouth hath spoken it,
  My hand shall execute;—­this is my mind!”
                              —­Edwin Arnold.

So the marriage took place, and, because the hermit and his son had vowed to remain in the jungle until reinstated in their realm, the princess dwelt in their humble hut, laying aside her princely garments and wearing the rough clothes hermits affect.