Then spoke the great god with an austere look, but in flattering terms:
“Vanity and the intoxicating pride that love has caused shall perish at this remembrance.”
Know, O saint, that infatuation prevails in a soul that is devoid of wisdom and self-control; but what pain can Love cause to one so steadfast in asceticism as yourself? Said Narad in his pride: “It is all your favour, my Lord.” The Compassionate saw into his heart and thought within himself: “Pride like a huge tree has sprouted in his soul: I must at once tear it up by the roots; ever to relieve my servants is the vow that I have made. I will surely contrive some sportive device on behalf of the saint.” Then Narad bowed his head at Hari’s feet and took his leave, swelling with pride; while Vishnu gave orders to the spirit of delusion. Listen now to his strange doings.
He constructed on the road a city a hundred leagues in circumference, and everything more perfect than even in Vishnu’s own capital,
and inhabited by such graceful men and women that you would take them all to be incarnations of Kamadeva and Rati. The king of the city, by name Silanidhi, had horses, elephants and troops beyond number; his royal pomp like that of a hundred Indras; himself a centre of power, policy and magnificence. His daughter Visva-mohani was so beautiful that even Lakshmi would be put to the blush, and by Hari’s delusive power was in every way so exquisite that no words could describe her. As the princess was selecting a husband, kings beyond number came as suitors. The saint, too, came to the fairy city and began making enquiries of the people. When he had heard all that was going on, he proceeded to the palace, where the king most respectfully gave him a seat,
“Vanity and the intoxicating pride that love has caused shall perish at this remembrance.”
Know, O saint, that infatuation prevails in a soul that is devoid of wisdom and self-control; but what pain can Love cause to one so steadfast in asceticism as yourself? Said Narad in his pride: “It is all your favour, my Lord.” The Compassionate saw into his heart and thought within himself: “Pride like a huge tree has sprouted in his soul: I must at once tear it up by the roots; ever to relieve my servants is the vow that I have made. I will surely contrive some sportive device on behalf of the saint.” Then Narad bowed his head at Hari’s feet and took his leave, swelling with pride; while Vishnu gave orders to the spirit of delusion. Listen now to his strange doings.
He constructed on the road a city a hundred leagues in circumference, and everything more perfect than even in Vishnu’s own capital,
and inhabited by such graceful men and women that you would take them all to be incarnations of Kamadeva and Rati. The king of the city, by name Silanidhi, had horses, elephants and troops beyond number; his royal pomp like that of a hundred Indras; himself a centre of power, policy and magnificence. His daughter Visva-mohani was so beautiful that even Lakshmi would be put to the blush, and by Hari’s delusive power was in every way so exquisite that no words could describe her. As the princess was selecting a husband, kings beyond number came as suitors. The saint, too, came to the fairy city and began making enquiries of the people. When he had heard all that was going on, he proceeded to the palace, where the king most respectfully gave him a seat,
and then brought his daughter for him to see, saying: “Tell me, good sir, after consideration, all that is good or bad about her.”