is disordered. Clouds gather overhead. He rushes frantically after a
cloud which he mistakes for a demon that carried away his bride.

He addresses various birds and asks them whether they have seen his
love,--the peacock, 'the bird of the dark-blue throat and eyes of
jet,'--the cuckoo, 'whom lovers deem Love's messenger,'--the swans, 'who
are sailing northward, and whose elegant gait betrays that they have
seen her,'--the chakravaka, 'a bird who, during the night, is himself
separated from his mate,'--but none responds. He apostrophises various
insects, beasts and even a mountain peak to tell him where she is.

Neither the bees which murmur amidst the petals of the lotus, nor the
royal elephant, that reclines with his mate under the Kadamba tree, has
seen the lost one.

At last he thinks he sees her in the mountain stream:--

"The rippling wave is like her frown; the row of tossing birds her
girdle; streaks of foam, her fluttering garment as she speeds along; the
current, her devious and stumbling gait. It is she turned in her wrath
into a stream."

At last the king finds a gem of ruddy radiance. He holds it in his
hands, and embraces the vine which is now transformed into Urvasi. Thus
is she restored to her proper form, through the mighty spell of the
magical gem. The efficacious gem is placed on her forehead. The king
recovers his reason. They are thus happily re-united and return to
Allahabad.

Several years elapse. An unlucky incident now comes to pass. A hawk