Chapter L

_Sakhī:_ With soft persuasion all the maidens
Led her to her lover's side,
A fawn ensnaréd from the forest
Panting hard.

The sweet-face sits beside the bed
With busily averted looks,
Her mind wide-wandering,--
Love breathing hard.

Cruel is Love, and loveliness is stubborn,
She will not follow reason:
Fast is her girdle knotted, bodice bound,
And barriers before her lips.

Her body closely swathed on neither side
A glimpse revealed,
She yields her life at a hand's touch,--
How may Hari win his will?

_Unhappy Kānta lays how many prayers_
_Upon the maiden's feet,_
_Hurting her soul (so Rādhā thinks):_
_Such is the song of Vidyāpati._

ABHISĀRA