Note 283 — KĀDAMBARĪ. (continued 2)

‘“At these words, Candrāpīḍa, all eager to depart, shouted: ‘A horse! a horse!’ and left the palace. Indrāyudha was hastily saddled, and brought round by the grooms, and Candrāpīḍa mounted, placing Patralekhā behind him, leaving Vaiçampāyana in charge of the camp, dismissing all his retinue, and followed by Keyūraka on another steed, he went to Hemakūṭa. (403) On his arrival, he dismounted at the gate of Kādambarī’s palace, giving his horse to the doorkeeper, and, followed by Patralekhā, eager for the first sight of Kādambarī, he entered, and asked a eunuch who came forward where the lady Kādambarī was. Bending low, the latter informed him, that she was in the ice-bower on the bank of the lotus-tank below the Mattamayūra pleasaunce; and then the prince, guided by Keyūraka, went some distance through the women’s garden, and beheld day grow green, and the sunbeams turn into grass by the reflection of the plantain-groves with their emerald glow, and there he beheld Kādambarī. (410) Then she looked with tremulous glance at her retinue, as, coming in one after another, they announced Candrāpīḍa’s approach, and asked each by name: ‘Tell me, has he really come, and hast thou seen him? How far off is he?’ She gazed with eyes gradually brightening as she saw him yet afar off, and rose from her couch of flowers, standing like a newly-caught elephant bound to her post, and trembling in every limb. She was veiled in bees drawn as vassals by the fragrance of her flowery couch, all murmuring; her upper garment was in confusion, and she sought to place on her bosom the shining necklace; (411) she seemed to beg the support of a hand from her own shadow as she laid her left hand on the jewelled pavement; she seemed to receive herself as a gift by sprinkling283 with her right hand moist with the toil of binding together her falling locks; she poured forth tears of joy cool as though the sandal-juice of her sectarial mark had entered in and been united with them; she washed with a line of glad tears her smooth cheeks, that the pollen from her garland had tinged with gray, as if in eagerness that the image of her beloved might fall thereon; she seemed to be drawn forward by her long eyes fastened on Candrāpīḍa’s face, with its pupil fixed in a sidelong glance, and her head somewhat bent, as if from the weight of the sandal-mark on her brow.