the business of the bee merely to hum in the court of the spring?"
The poet would answer: "No, but also to sip the honey of the spray of spring flowers."
And they all laughed in the king's hall. And it was rumoured that the Princess Ajita also laughed at her maid's accepting the poet's name for her, and Manjari felt glad in her heart.
Thus truth and falsehood mingle in life—and to what God builds man adds his own decoration.
Only those were pure truths which were sung by the poet. The theme was Krishna, the lover god, and Rādhā, the beloved, the Eternal Man and the Eternal Woman, the sorrow that comes from the beginning of time, and the joy without end. The truth of these songs was tested in his inmost heart by everybody from the beggar to the king himself. The poet's songs were on the lips of all. At the merest glimmer of the moon and the faintest whisper of the summer breeze his songs would break forth in the land from windows and courtyards, from sailing-boats, from shadows of the wayside trees, in numberless voices.
Thus passed the days happily. The poet recited, the king listened, the hearers applauded, Manjari
