two women went as agreed, and Lûrki then recognised Lori, and the mystery was cleared up, to the happiness of all concerned. But Lori had to undergo a severe lecture for his unnatural behaviour in neglecting his young wife so long, and living in happiness with a mistress. Matters, however, were so arranged as not to deprive Lori of his mistress.
On the other hand, the nephew, not having any knowledge of these transactions, and finding Lûrki and Satmatain both absent from home, attacked Lori furiously; the fight raged for a long time, Lori was overpowered, and was on the point of losing his life, when Lûrki and Satmanain rushed into the fight and explained matters; thereupon there were great rejoicings, and they all settled down comfortably.
Lori ruled his subjects with justice, and was such an earnest encourager of agriculture, that in a short time he turned the wilds about Rajauli to a highly cultivated country, where, so completely was the land brought under cultivation, that even insects found no secure resting place; so the whole body of birds, beasts, and insects went up and complained to Indra, who, taking counsel with Durgâ, saw that Lori ruled his country with such justice, and was so blameless in his private life, that he was beyond the power of harm, and could not be touched, unless he committed some crime. To entice him into crime, Durgâ assumed the form of his mistress, and went to him with his food, which was the usual custom of Chandáin. Lori, ignorant of the trap laid for him, and inflamed by the beauty of his supposed mistress, who on this day seemed to him more beautiful than she had ever been, neglected his food and amorously sought to embrace his beautiful Chandáin. Hardly had he touched her, when Durgâ, knowing that his invulnerability was lost, administered a slap, which twisted his face completely round, and disappeared. Overcome with grief and shame, Lori determined to go and die at Kasi, but his relatives loved him too well to lose him, and they all went to Kasi, where they now all sleep the sleep of magic at the Manikarnika Ghat, having been turned into stone.
The legend is very interesting, as it gives us an insight into the customs which prevailed in ancient times, and we see that there has been but little change to this day. Now, as before, we see the great importance attached to scrupulous observance of a morbid delicacy in the conduct of females coupled with a shameless indecency; the exposure of her person by Chandáin is not considered a very heinous offence
