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Thine eyes were sad when they fell on me; thy voice was tired as thou spokest low 'Ah, I am a thirsty traveller. I started up from my day-dreams and poured water from my jar on thy joined palms. The leaves rustled overhead; the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark, and perfume of babla flowers came from the bend of the road. I stood speechless with shame when my name thou didst ask.
At this offer Hira became very zealous, and asked, "When may I go to make inquiry?" "When you like; but if you do not follow her now you will not be able to trace her. Be careful that neither the Boisnavi nor any one else suspects you." At this moment Kamal returned, and, approving of Surja Mukhi's design, said to Hira, "And if you can, prick her with babla thorns."
"Stay a moment," said Kamal, "I will fetch a babla branch, and let her feel its thorns." Thus saying, Kamal went in search of a bough. On the way she saw Satish, who had got possession of his aunt's vermilion, and was seated, daubing neck, nose, chin, and breast with the red powder. At this sight Kamal forgot the Boisnavi, the bough, Kunda Nandini, and everything else.
Bring a bough of the babla tree, and show her how pleasant it is to be pierced by thorns." Surja Mukhi said gently: "We do not like songs of that sort; sing something suitable for the home circle." The Boisnavi, saying "Very well," began to sing "By clasping the Pandit's feet, I shall become learned in the Shastras; Learning thus the holy Shastras, who will dare speak ill of me?"
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