Still the faithful wife followed her husband, and Yama himself could not shake her off. Boon after boon was granted her, and each time she added something to the joy of the home in which she had not yet passed a year. At last Death himself began to notice this.
"This time, Savitri," he commanded, "ask something for yourself. Anything but your husband's life shall be yours. But it is my last gift! When that is given, you are banished from my presence."
"Grant me, then, that I may have many sons, and see their children happy before I die!" said Savitri.
Yama was delighted. So Savitri was willing to flee from him, he thought! "Of course! Of course! A very good wish!" he said.
But Savitri was standing still before him, as if waiting. "Well," he said, "have I not granted it? That is all."
At these words Savitri raised her head and smiled. "My Lord," she said, "a widow does not remarry!"
The dread King looked at her for a moment. As God of Death, how could he give up the dead? But as God of Truth, could he urge Savitri to be untrue? A moment he hesitated. Then he stooped and undid the noose, while the whole forest rang with his laughter.
