BOOK XXVI.

There a month when he had sojourned — of king Bhima taking leave,

Guarded but by few attendants — to Nishadha took his way.

With a single splendid chariot — and with elephants sixteen,

And with fifty armed horsemen — and six hundred men on foot;

Making, as‘ twere, earth to tremble — hastening onward, did the king,

Enter awful in his anger — and terrific in his speed.

Then the son of Virasena — to king Pushkara drew near;

“Play we once again,” then said he — “much the wealth I have acquired:

All I have, even Damayanti — every treasure I possess,

Set I now upon the hazard — Pushkara, thy kingdom thou:

In the game once more contend we —‘ tis my settled purpose this,

Brother, at a single hazard — play we boldly for our lives.

From another he who treasures — he who mighty realm hath won,

‘ Tis esteemed a bounden duty — to play back the counter game.

If thou shrinkest from the hazard — be our game the strife of swords,

Meet we in the single combat — all our difference to decide.

An hereditary kingdom — may by any means be sought,

Be re-won by any venture — this the maxim of the wise.

Of two courses set before thee — Pushkara, the option make,

Or in play to stand the hazard — or in battle stretch the bow.”

By Nishadha's lord thus challenged — Pushkara, with smile suppressed,

As secure of easy victory — answered to the lord of earth;

“Oh what joy! abundant treasures — thou hast won, again to play;

Oh what joy! of Damayanti — now the hard-won prize is mine:

Oh what joy! again thou livest — with thy consort, mighty armed!

With the wealth I win bedecked — soon shall Bhima's daughter stand,

By my side, as by great Indra — stands the Apsara in heaven.

Still on thee hath dwelt my memory — still I've waited, king, for thee;

In the play I find no rapture — but‘ gainst kinsmen like thyself.

When this day the round-limbed princess — Damayanti, undespised,

I shall win, I rest contented — still within mine heart she dwells.”

Hearing his contemptuous language — franticly thus pouring forth,

With his sword th’ indignant Nala — fain had severed off his head.

But with haughty smile, with anger — glaring in his blood-red eyes,

“Play we now, nor talk we longer — conquered, thou'lt no longer talk.”

Then of Pushkara the gaming — and of Nala straight began:

In a single throw by Nala — was the perilous venture gained;

Pushkara, his gold, his jewels — at one hazard all was won!

Pushkara, in play thus conquered — with a smile the king rejoined:

“Mine again is all this kingdom — undisturbed, its foes o'ercome.

Fallen king! Vidarbha's daughter — by thine eyes may ne'er be seen.

Thou art now, with all thy household — unto abject slavery sunk.

Not thyself achieved the conquest — that subdued me heretofore!

‘ Twas achieved by mightier Kali — that thou didst not, fool, perceive.

Yet my wrath, by him enkindled — will I not‘ gainst thee direct;

Live thou henceforth at thy pleasure — freely I thy life bestow,

And of thine estate and substance — give I thee thy fitting share.

Such my pleasure, in thy welfare — hero, do I take delight,

And mine unabated friendship — never shall from thee depart.

Pushkara, thou art my brother — may'st thou live an hundred years!”

Nala thus consoled his brother — in his conscious power and strength,

Sent him home to his own city — once embracing, once again.

Pushkara, thus finding comfort — answered to Nishadha's lord,

Answered he to Punyasloka — bowing low with folded hands:

“Everlasting be thy glory! may'st thou live ten thousand years!

That my life to me thou grantest — and a city for mine home!”

Hospitably entertained — there a month when he had dwelt,

Joyful to his own proud city — Pushkara, with all his kin,

With a well-appointed army — of attendant slaves an host,

Shining like the sun departed,— in his full meridian orb.

Pushkara thus crowned with riches — thus unharmed, when he dismissed,

Entered then his royal city — with surpassing pomp, the king:

As he entered, to his subjects — Nala spake the words of peace.

From the city, from the country — all, with hair erect with joy,

Came, with folded hands addressed him — and the counsellors of state.

“Happy are we now, O monarch — in the city, in the fields,

Setting forth to do thee homage — as to Indra all the gods.”

Then at peace the tranquil city — the first festal gladness o'er,

With a mighty host escorted — Damayanti brought he home.

Damayanti rich in treasures — in her father's blessings rich,

Glad dismissed the mighty-minded — Bhima, fearful in his strength.

With the daughter of Vidarbha — with his children in his joy,

Nala lived, as lives the sovereign — of the gods in Nandana.

Re-ascended thus to glory — he, among the kings of earth,

Ruled his realm in Jambudwipa— thus re-won, with highest fame;

And all holy rites performed he — with devout munificence.