every kind of plenty, besides elephants and horses and cars in myriads.  And having consulted with Sudeshna thus, Kichaka went to princess Draupadi, and like a jackal in the forest accosting a lioness, spoke unto Krishna these words in a winning voice, ’Who and whose art thou, O beautiful one?  And O thou of beautiful face, whence hast thou come to the city of Virata?  Tell me all this, O fair lady.  Thy beauty and gracefulness are of the very first order and the comeliness of thy features is unparalleled.  With its loveliness thy face shineth ever like the resplendent moon.  O thou of fair eye-brows, thy eyes are beautiful and large like lotus-petals.  Thy speech also, O thou of beautiful limbs, resembles the notes of the cuckoo.  O thou of fair hips, never before in this world have I beheld a woman possessed of beauty like thine, O thou of faultless features.  Art thou Lakshmi herself having her abode in the midst of lotuses or, art thou, O slender-waisted one, she who is called Bhuti[13].  Or, which amongst these—­Hri, Sri, Kirti and Kanti,—­art thou, O thou of beautiful face?  Or possessed of beauty like Rati’s, art thou, she who sporteth in the embraces of the God of love?  O thou that possessest the fairest of eye-brows, thou shinest beautifully even like the lovely light of the moon.  Who is there in the whole world that will not succumb to the influence of desire beholding thy face?  Endued with unrivalled beauty and celestial grace of the most attractive kind, that face of thine is even like the full moon, its celestial effulgence resembling his radiant face, its smile resembling his soft-light, and its eye-lashes looking like the spokes on his disc?  Both thy bosoms, so beautiful and well-developed and endued with unrivalled gracefulness and deep and well-rounded and without any space between them, are certainly worthy of being decked with garlands of gold.  Resembling in shape the beautiful buds of the lotus, these thy breast, O thou of fair eye-brows, are even as the whips of Kama that are urging me forward, O thou of sweet smiles, O damsel of slender waist, beholding that waist of thine marked with four wrinkles and measuring but a span, and slightly stooping forward because of the weight of thy breasts, and also looking on those graceful hips of thine broad as the banks of a river, the incurable fever of desire, O beauteous lady, afflicteth me sore.  The flaming fire of desire, fierce as a forest conflagration, and fanned by the hope my heart cherisheth of a union with thee is consuming me intensely.  O thou of exceeding beauty quench thou that flaming fire kindled by Manmatha.  Union with thee is a rain-charged cloud, and the surrender of thy person is the shower that the cloud may drop.  O thou of face resembling the moon, the fierce and maddening shafts of Manmatha whetted and sharpened by the desire of a union with thee, piercing this heart of mine in their impetuous course, have penetrated into its core.  O black-eyed lady, those impetuous