Note 282 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

‘“‘This, indeed, is the reward of doing homage at Mahāçvetā’s feet, that the lady Kādambarī should lay so great a weight of honour on her slave as to remember him,” said Candrāpīḍa, as he placed all on his head282 and accepted it. The necklace he put round his neck, after anointing it with an ointment cool, pleasant, and fragrant, as it were with the beauty of Kādambarī’s cheeks distilled, or the light of her smile liquefied, or her heart melted, or her virtues throbbing forth. (400) Taking some betel, he rose and stood, with his left arm on Keyūraka’s shoulder, and then dismissed the courtiers, who were gladly paying their wonted homage, and at length went to see his elephant Gandhamādana. There he stayed a short time, and after he had himself given to the elephant a handful of grass, that, being jagged with the rays of his nails, was like lotus-fibre, he went to the stable of his favourite steed. On the way he turned his face now on this side, now on that, to glance at his retinue, and the porters, understanding his wish, forbade all to follow him, and dismissed the retinue, so that he entered the stable with Keyūraka alone. The grooms bowed and departed, with eyes bewildered by terror at their dismissal, and the prince set straight Indrāyudha’s cloth, which had fallen a little on one side, pushed back his mane, tawny as a lion’s, which was falling on his eyes and half closing them, and then, negligently resting his foot on the peg of the tethering-rope, and leaning against the stable wall, he eagerly asked: