Yonder bright thousand-rayed one, sole eye of the three worlds, shall soon bring to light the happiness of Jímútaváhana. (Looking astonished.) What is this that has suddenly fallen in front of me from the sky? as it were a star, loosened by a portentous wind, shooting forth red streaks, bright as rays, and giving excessive pain to the eye of the beholder. How is this? It has fallen at my very feet. (All look at it.) Alas! it is a crest-jewel, with moist flesh adhering to it! Whose can it be!
Queen (in a tone of distress).
O king! it is the crest-jewel of my poor boy.
Malayavatí.
O mother! say not so.
Doorkeeper.
O king! do not distress yourself through ignorance of facts. In this place many crest-jewels of the chiefs of the Nágas, who are devoured by Garuda, fall torn off by his beak and claws.
King.
O queen! there is some reason in what he says. I hope that it may prove so!
Queen.
O Sunanda! assuredly by this time my son will have arrived at his father-in-law’s house from that shore. Go, then, and ascertain for us quickly.
Doorkeeper.
As the queen orders.
