At eventide the happy king repaired to Kaikeyi’s apartments, as it were Love incarnate visiting Obduracy.
He was dismayed when he heard of the chamber of wrath and could scarcely put his feet to the ground for fear. He under whose mighty arm the Lord of heaven dwells secure, and upon whose favour all monarchs wait, was in a fever at hearing of an angry woman; see how great is the power of love. The bearers of trident, thunderbolt, and sword are slain by the flowery shafts of Rati’s spouse. Anxiously the king approached his beloved and was terribly distressed to see her condition, lying on the ground in old and coarse attire with all her personal adornments cast away: her wretched appearance according with her wretched design, as if in mourning for her instant widowhood. The king drew near and asked in gentle tones: “Why are you angry, my heart’s delight?”
“Why so angry, my queen?” and touched her with his hands. She put away her lord and flashed upon him a furious glance like an enraged serpent, with her two wishes for its double tongue, and the boons for fangs, spying out a vulnerable point. Under the influence of fate, says Tulsi, the king took it all as one of love’s devices.
Again and again the king cried: “Tell me the cause of your anger, O beautiful, bright-eyed dame, with voice as melodious as the kail and gait as voluptuous as the elephant.”
He was dismayed when he heard of the chamber of wrath and could scarcely put his feet to the ground for fear. He under whose mighty arm the Lord of heaven dwells secure, and upon whose favour all monarchs wait, was in a fever at hearing of an angry woman; see how great is the power of love. The bearers of trident, thunderbolt, and sword are slain by the flowery shafts of Rati’s spouse. Anxiously the king approached his beloved and was terribly distressed to see her condition, lying on the ground in old and coarse attire with all her personal adornments cast away: her wretched appearance according with her wretched design, as if in mourning for her instant widowhood. The king drew near and asked in gentle tones: “Why are you angry, my heart’s delight?”
“Why so angry, my queen?” and touched her with his hands. She put away her lord and flashed upon him a furious glance like an enraged serpent, with her two wishes for its double tongue, and the boons for fangs, spying out a vulnerable point. Under the influence of fate, says Tulsi, the king took it all as one of love’s devices.
Again and again the king cried: “Tell me the cause of your anger, O beautiful, bright-eyed dame, with voice as melodious as the kail and gait as voluptuous as the elephant.”
Who is it, my dear, who has vexed you? Who is it with a head to spare and so enamoured of death? Tell me what beggar I should make a king, or what king I should banish from his realm. I could slay even an immortal, were he your enemy; of what account then are any poor worms of men and women? O my love, you know my sentiments and how my eyes ever turn to your face as the partridge to the moon. O my beloved, my life, my son, and everything that I own, my palace, my subjects are all at your disposal. Could I tell you a word of untruth, lady, at least an oath by Râma must be binding. Ask with a smile whatever you desire; adorn your lovely person with jewels; consider within yourself what an hour of torture this is for me, and at once, my darling, put away this unseemly attire.