2. They passed their time with cool apathy in their minds in the solitary forest; and were as helpless as stray stags separated from each other, and wandering afar from their home and possessions.
3. They passed their days and nights, and months and years in this manner; until both of them were worn out by age, like two withered trees in a valley (having nobody to take notice of them).
4. Not attaining to true knowledge, their austerities served only to shatter their frames, and reduce their strength; till at last they happened to meet one another, and betook to their conversation in the following manner.
5. Vilása said:—O Bhása, that art the best fruit of the tree of my life, that hast thy seat in the recess of my heart, and art a sea of ambrosia to me, I welcome thee, O my best friend in this world.
6. Tell me my good friend, how and where you passed so long a time, after your separation from me; and whether your austerities have been successful to be rewarded with their fruit.
7. Tell me whether thy mind is freed from anxieties, and whether thou art in possession of thy self (i.e. self-possessed by knowledge of thy soul). Say, hast thou obtained the reward of thy learning, and hast thou after all, got thy peace and quiet.
8. Being thus addressed and asked by Vilása, whose mind was troubled amidst the vexations of this world; Bhása who had attained to consummate knowledge, replied to him as respectfully as a friend doth to his dearest friend.
9. Bhása replied:—O good friend! you are fortunately and happily met here this day; but how can we expect to have our peace and rest so long as we have to remain in this world of strife and vale of misery.
10. How can I have my rest so long, as the turbulent passions are not subdued in my breast; and until I can know the knowable (the unknown one that is only worth knowing); and till I can get across this sea of the world.
11. How can we have our quiet, as long as our desires and hopes and fears continue to infest in our minds; and until we can weed them out, like thorns and brambles of bushes, with the spade of our reason.