DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.638#0439
NALA IN EXILE 355
Having spoken thus, the king of serpents vanished
from sight. Thereupon Nala went towards the city of
Ayodhya, and he stood in the presence of the royal Rajah
Rituparna, unto whom he spoke thus: "My name is
Vahuka. I am a tamer of steeds, nor is my equal to be
found in the world; and I have surpassing skill in cooking
viands."
The rajah welcomed him and took him into his service,
saying: " Thou shalt cause my horses to be fleet of foot.
Be thou master of mine own steed, and thy reward will
be great."
He was well pleased and gave unto Vahuka for com-
rades Varshneya, who had been in Nala's service, and
Jivala also. So the transformed rajah abode a long time
at Ayodhya, and every evening, sitting alone, he sang a
single verse:
Where is she all worn but faithful, weary, thirsty, hung'ring too?
Thinks she of her foolish husband ? . . . Doth another man her
woo?
Ever thus he sang, and his comrades heard him and
wondered greatly. So it came that one evening Jivala
spoke to Nala and said: "For whom do you sorrow
thus, O Vahuka? I pray you to tell me. Who is the
husband of this lady?"
Nala answered him with sad voice and said: "Once
there was a peerless lady, and she had a husband of
weakly will. And lo! as they wandered in a forest
together, he fled from her without cause, and yet he
sorrowed greatly. Ever by day and by night is he
consumed by his overwhelming grief, and brooding
ever, he sings this melancholy song. He is a weary
wanderer in the wide world, and his sorrow is without
end; it is never still. . . . His wife wanders all forlorn in
Having spoken thus, the king of serpents vanished
from sight. Thereupon Nala went towards the city of
Ayodhya, and he stood in the presence of the royal Rajah
Rituparna, unto whom he spoke thus: "My name is
Vahuka. I am a tamer of steeds, nor is my equal to be
found in the world; and I have surpassing skill in cooking
viands."
The rajah welcomed him and took him into his service,
saying: " Thou shalt cause my horses to be fleet of foot.
Be thou master of mine own steed, and thy reward will
be great."
He was well pleased and gave unto Vahuka for com-
rades Varshneya, who had been in Nala's service, and
Jivala also. So the transformed rajah abode a long time
at Ayodhya, and every evening, sitting alone, he sang a
single verse:
Where is she all worn but faithful, weary, thirsty, hung'ring too?
Thinks she of her foolish husband ? . . . Doth another man her
woo?
Ever thus he sang, and his comrades heard him and
wondered greatly. So it came that one evening Jivala
spoke to Nala and said: "For whom do you sorrow
thus, O Vahuka? I pray you to tell me. Who is the
husband of this lady?"
Nala answered him with sad voice and said: "Once
there was a peerless lady, and she had a husband of
weakly will. And lo! as they wandered in a forest
together, he fled from her without cause, and yet he
sorrowed greatly. Ever by day and by night is he
consumed by his overwhelming grief, and brooding
ever, he sings this melancholy song. He is a weary
wanderer in the wide world, and his sorrow is without
end; it is never still. . . . His wife wanders all forlorn in