hâvatî asks him who this person may be, and wherein their cleverness consists. This leads to Story I, and just when the climax arrives the parrot stops, and asks Prabhâvatî and her friends how they think the story ends. Of course they don't know, and the parrot keeps them on tenterhooks for a bit, and finally tells them. By this time the evening is tolerably far advanced, so that it is of no use for Prabhâvatî to set out on her love-making expeditions, and she goes to bed with her attendants. This process is repeated for sixty-nine evenings, and finally Prabhâvatî's husband returns. From what he gathers, he does not altogether approve of his wife's goings on in his absence; and seems as if he meant to proceed to extremities, when the eloquent parrot calms him down with the seventieth story, after which Madana's father observes a great festival in honour of his son and daughter-in-law, and the parrot, having worked out the charm (or the curse), ascends to heaven in a rain of flowers.
Note.
The tales all begin and end in a similar manner. I have given the introduction and conclusion to the first two as examples, but it does not seem necessary to go through all the stories in the same way. Some of the Tales have been omitted as unsuitable for translation into English.
