Note 275 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

‘“And when the moon, the umbrella of the supreme rule of Kāma, the lord of the lotuses, the ivory earring that decks the night, had risen, and when the world was turned to whiteness, as though overlaid with ivory, Candrāpīḍa lay down on a cool moonlit slab, pearl white, pointed out by Kādambarī’s servants. It was washed with fresh sandal, garlanded with pure sinduvāra flowers, and carved round with a leafy tracery of lotus petals. It lay on the shore of a palace lotus tank, that seemed from the full moonlight to be made of night-lotuses,275 with steps white with bricks washed by the waves, as it wafted a breeze fanned by the ripples; (391) pairs of haṃsas lay there asleep, and pairs of cakravākas kept up their dirge of separation thereon. And while the Prince yet rested there Keyūraka approached him, and told him that Princess Kādambarī had come to see him. Then Candrāpīḍa rose hastily, and beheld Kādambarī drawing near. Few of her friends were with her; all her royal insignia were removed; she was as it were a new self, in the single necklace she wore; her slender form was white with the purest sandal-juice; an earring hung from one ear; she wore a lotus-petal in the ear, soft as a budding digit of the moon; she was clad in robes of the kalpa-tree,276 clear as moonlight; and in the garb that consorted with that hour she stood revealed like the very goddess of moonrise, as she rested on the hand offered by Madalekhā. Drawing near, she showed a grace prompted by love, and took her seat on the ground, where servants are wont to sit, like a maiden of low degree; and Candrāpīḍa, too, though often entreated by Madalekhā to sit on the rocky seat, took his place on the ground by Madalekhā; and when all the women were seated he made an effort to speak, saying, ‘Princess, to one who is thy slave, and whom even a glance gladdens, there needs not the favour of speech with thee, far less so great a grace as this. (392) For, deeply as I think, I cannot see in myself any worth that this height of favour may befit. Most noble and sweet in its laying aside of pride is this thy courtesy, in that such grace is shown to one but newly thy servant. Perchance thou thinkest me a churl that must be won by gifts. Blessed, truly, is the servant over whom is thy sway! How great honour is bestowed on the servants deemed worthy of the bestowal of thy commands. But the body is a gift at the service of any man, and life is light as grass, so that I am ashamed in my devotion to greet thy coming with such a gift. Here am I, here my body, my life, my senses! Do thou, by accepting one of them, raise it to honour.’