Now Dokhio, the Father of Durga, was wroth because Shiva, to whom he had given his daughter in marriage, though he had the reputation of a God, was as poor as any beggar. And in his wrath he devised revenge. He made a great Feast, to which he bade Gods and Goddesses, Godlings and baby Godlings—all, save Shiva and his wife Durga. And Narod, the Mischief Man, was made the voice to bear the message to each guest.
So Narod went to Shiva, and “This is what your Father-in-law hath planned,” saith he, inciting.
But Shiva, “What is that to me?” “Dishonour, insult, affront—see you not?” said the Mischief Man.
And Shiva, again, “What is that to me? They who do not honour cannot hurt me.”...
Narod then went to Durga, Shiva’s wife: “A Feast of Gods and Goddesses,” saith he. “Let be,” said Durga; “What is that to me?”
“Such display of dresses and jewels, such cackling of women’s tongues. ‘Why is Shiva not there? Why not Durga?’ Surely a daughter may go to the house of her Father, by chance, on the day of the Feast, ignorant of what is forward?”...
Durga sought her husband. But he was firm. “They will make sport of you to spite me.”
“What matter? It were worse not to be seen there—things happening behind our backs.”...
But Shiva was firm.
Then did Durga use all the wiles of women—coaxing, sulking, flattering—Shiva was firm; so, finally she used the wiles of a more than human ...