Verse 18

¹⁸When Puranjana saw his own queen thrown down on the ground, his knowing churned up by his clinging to her, he came to the last of helplessness. ¹⁹Soothing her with smooth words and an aching heart, he did not find in himself the mark of the loving anger of the one he loved. ²⁰Then the hero, who was skilled at appeasing, coaxed her slowly; he touched her two feet, and held her in his lap, and spoke. ²¹Surely, lovely one, those servants have earned no merit whose masters, when they have done wrong, do not take them as their own and lay the rod on them to teach them. ²²The rod a master lays on his servants is the highest kindness; a child does not know that, slender one, and being impatient does not see that it is what a kinsman does.

²³So show us who are your own your face, fine-toothed and fine-browed, with its smiling look shining out from under the weight of love and the holding back of shyness, set off by the swarm of your dark curls, your nose lifted; and let us hear your sweet speech, high-minded woman.