Note 8 — Chapter CXVII

Then she gave him this answer, “No doubt my friend will be well enough, when you become her husband; but at present she is afflicted. For ever since she saw you, and you robbed her of her heart, she has been despondent, and neither hears nor sees. The maiden has left off her necklace, and wears a chain of lotus-fibres; and has abandoned her couch, and rolls on a bed of lotus-leaves. Best of conquerors, I tell you, her limbs, now white with the sandal-wood juice which is drying up with their heat, seem laughingly8 to say, ‘That very maiden, who formerly was too bashful to endure the mention of a lover9, is now reduced to this sad condition by being separated from her dear one.’ And she sends you this message.” Having said so much, Manoháriká recited the two verses which Padmávatí had put into her mouth.