“Monarch!” uttered then the rishi, “fixed is she in mind and heart,
From her troth the true Savitri never, never will depart!
More than mortal's share of virtue unto Satyavan is given,
Let the true maid wed her chosen, leave the rest to gracious Heaven!”
“Rishi and preceptor holy!” so the weeping monarch prayed,
“Heaven avert all future evils, and thy mandate is obeyed!”
Narad wished him joy and gladness, blessed the loving youth and maid,
Forest hermits on their wedding every fervent blessing laid.
IV
Overtaken by Fate
Twelve-month in the darksome forest by her true and chosen lord,
Lived Savitri, served his parents by her thought and deed and word,
Bark of tree supplied her garments draped upon her bosom fair,
Or the red cloth as in asrams holy women love to wear,
And the aged queen she tended with a fond and filial pride,
Served the old and sightless monarch like a daughter by his side,
And with love and gentle sweetness pleased her husband and her lord,
But in secret, night and morning, pondered still on Narad's word!