Chapter XXXV.
May the head of Śiva, studded with the nails of Gaurí engaged in playfully pulling his hair, and so appearing rich in many moons,[1] procure you prosperity.
May the god of the elephant face,[2] who, stretching forth his trunk wet with streaming ichor, curved at the extremity, seems to be bestowing successes, protect you.
Thus the young son of the king of Vatsa, having married in Kauśámbí Madanamanchuká, whom he loved as his life, remained living as he chose, with his ministers Gomukha and others, having obtained his wish.
And once on a time, when the feast of spring had arrived, adorned with the gushing notes of love-intoxicated cuckoos, in which the wind from the Malaya mountain set in motion by force the dance of the creepers,—the feast of spring delightful with the hum of bees, the prince went to the garden with his ministers to amuse himself. After roaming about there, his friend Tapantaka suddenly came with his eyes expanded with delight, and stepping up to him, said—“Prince, I have seen not far from here a wonderful maiden, who has descended from heaven and is standing under an aśoka-tree, and that very maiden, who illumines the regions with her beauty, advancing towards me with her friends, sent me here to summon you.” When Naraváhanadatta heard that, being eager to see her, he went quickly with his ministers to the foot of the tree. He beheld there that fair one, with her rolling eyes like bees, with her lips red like shoots, beautiful with breasts firm as clusters, having her body yellow with the dust of flowers, removing fatigue by her loveliness,[3] like the goddess of the garden appearing in a visible shape suited to her deity. And the prince approached the heavenly maiden, who bowed before him, and welcomed her, for his eyes were ravished with her beauty. Then his minister Gomukha, after all had sat down, asked her, “Who are you, auspicious one, and for what reason have you come here?” When she heard that, she laid aside her modesty in obedience to the irresistible decree of Love, and frequently stealing sidelong glances at the lotus of Naraváhanadatta’s face with an eye that shed matchless affection, she began thus at length to relate her own history.