Then she sipped water of ablution,[322] and sent her two children with Keśiní to the kitchen. Immediately that the charioteer beheld Indrasena and her brother he embraced them tenderly: he gazed lovingly upon the children, who were as beautiful as the children of the gods, and his soul was deeply moved, while tears ran down his cheeks. Seeing that the handmaiden observed him closely, he said: “Ah! the little ones are so like unto mine own children that I could not restrain my tears.... Let us part now, O innocent maiden; we are in a land of strangers, and if thou comest so often men will speak ill of thee.”
When Damayantí was told how the charioteer had been so profoundly moved when he saw the royal children, she sent Keśiní unto her mother, the queen, for she was impatient to behold her husband once again. The handmaiden spake to the queen, saying: “Lo! we have observed the charioteer closely, and believe that he is Nala, although misshapen of form. Damayantí is fain he would come before her, with or without the knowledge of her sire, and that quickly.”
The queen at once went unto Bhima and told him all, and the rajah gave permission that the charioteer should be summoned. In an instant word was sent unto Nala, and soon he stood before Damayantí and gazed upon her, and was moved to anguish. The princess was clad in a robe of scarlet, and her hair was thrown into disarray and defiled with dust: she wept and trembled with emotion.
At length Damayantí spoke, saying: “O Váhuka, hast thou ever heard of a noble and upright man who fled away, abandoning his sleeping wife in a forest? Innocent was she, and worn out with grief. Who was he who thus forsook his wife but the lordly Nala?... What offence did I give unto him that he should have deserted me while I slept? Was he not chosen by me as mine husband even before the gods?... How could he abandon her who loved him—the mother of his children?... Before the celestial beings he pledged his faith. How hath he kept his vow?”
She spoke with broken voice, and her dark eyes were dewed by sorrow.
Nala made answer, gazing upon his beloved wife, and said: “My kingdom I lost by the dice, but I was innocent of evil, because Kali possessed my soul, and by that demon was I also swayed to desert thee, O timid one! But thou didst smite him with thy curse when thou wert in the forest mourning for me, yet he remained in my body until, in the end, he was conquered by my long-suffering and devotion. Lo! now, O beauteous one, our grief is nigh to its end. The evil one hath departed, and through love of thee I come hither right speedily.... But how,” he asked sternly, “may a high-born lady choose her another husband, as thou wouldst fain do, even now, O faint heart? The heralds have gone up and down the land saying: ‘The daughter of Bhima will hold her second swayamvara because such is her fancy.’ And for this reason Rituparna made haste to come hither.”[323]
Damayantí shook with emotion when these hard words were spoken, and she addressed Nala, saying: “Do not suspect me, O noble one, of such shameful guilt. It was for thee and thee alone that the Bráhmans went forth repeating the message which I addressed unto them. Lo! when I learned of the words thou didst speak unto the wise Parnada, I conceived this stratagem with purpose to bring thee hither. Faithful of heart have I remained, nor ever have I thought evil of thee. I call upon the wind to slay me now if I have sinned: on the sun I call also and on the moon, which enters into every thought of living beings. Let these three gods who govern the three worlds[324] speak now to prove my words, or else turn against me.”
Then the wind which the princess had adjured spake from without and said: “O Nala, Damayantí hath done no evil, nor hath she thought on evil. For three long years she hath treasured up her virtue in its fullness. She speaketh what is true even now. Thou hast found the daughter of Bhima: the daughter of Bhima hath found thee. Take now thine own wife to thy bosom.”