Chapter LXXIII

_Sakhī:_ Beauty, of lineage and courtesy, without your eyes--
The best of lovers--what may you do?
How may you make jap-tap, or alms bestow or vows accomplish.
Who have no pity on the pitiful?

'I would advise you very seriously, my dear:
One such a virtue many a sin may cancel,
A single sin destroys the fruit of many virtues.

'Though brother to the poison, thief of a guru's wife.
And vomited from Rahu's jaws.
Scorching divided lovers, slayer of water-lilies,--
Yet for his merits the moon shines bright!

'Loving another's children, careless of his own,
The crow drinks dregs of love:
Yet an only word of His, wipes all those faults away,--
He speaks such honey-words.'

_Rādhā:_ 'What can I say, my dear, of Kāna's love--
The roothless root of every virtue?
Touching His flute He makes a hundred vows
But even then I cannot trust Him.

'Renewed embraces: kissing me upon His lap,
He makes protest of loyalty!
But He has spent the night beside some other girl,
And emptied me of hope.

'In something more than fire my body burns
I see the seal of Rati on every limb.'
_Life may expire, says Vidyāpati,_
_And yet you will not mix with Hari!_

LXXIV.

_Rādhā:_ Hearken, prithee, heartless Hari,
Fie on your such love!
Why did you speak of keeping tryst,
And with another maiden spent the night?

You make pretence of love for Rāi,
And dally with another girl:
Who says brave Kānu is best of lovers?
No such another fool is in the world.

Refusing ruby, you seek for glass,
Leaving an lake of nectar, you long for brine,
Forsaking a sea of curds, to wanton in a well,--
Fie on your amorous blandishment!

_Vidyāpati the lord of poets avows:_
_Rādhā will never look upon your face again._