Verse 40

⁴⁰Elder brother of Gada, your word is a dull one. You drove off the kings with the twang of the Sarnga and carried me away, Lord, as a lion carries off his own share from the cattle. And as for your going to the sea for shelter in fear of them: ⁴¹it is the thing for love of which the crest-jewels among kings, Anga, Vainya, Jayanta, Nahusa, Gaya and the rest, gave up their single rule and their kingdom and went into the forest, lotus-eyed one. Do those come to grief who stand here on the track behind you? ⁴²What woman would go to another once she has smelt the scent of your lotus feet, made loud by the good, the release of the people, and passed over you, the home of Laksmi and the home of every quality: a mortal woman with the great fear always on her, whose eye can tell what is worth having?

⁴³So I turned to you, my match, Lord of the worlds, the self, and the filling of desire here and beyond. Let your foot be my shelter as I wander on the roads: it comes to the one who turns to it, and it is release from the false. ⁴⁴Unfallen one, let the kings you advise be hers, harrower of enemies, those who are servants in women's houses like the ass and the ox and the dog and the cat: hers, to the root of whose ear your story has never come, that is sung in the halls of Mrda and Virinca. ⁴⁵She turns to a living corpse, bound outside with skin and moustache and hair and nails, and inside with flesh and bone and blood and worms and dung and phlegm and bile and wind, and takes it for her beloved: the woman, deluded, who does not smell the honey of your lotus foot.