Thy eyes are long and large of shape, a lovely sight to view,
Like gunja berries black, marked out with lines of reddish hue.

Thy tresses smooth, not over long and bound in neatest coil,
Are tipped with gold and perfumed with the finest sandal oil.

Of all that live by merchandise, by herds or by the plough,
Of all the mighty saints that live true to ascetic vow

Amongst them all in this wide world thy peer I may not see,
Then what thy name and who thy sire, we fain would learn from thee.

[157] While the ascetic thus sang the praises of Alambusa, from her feet to the hair of her head, she remained silent, and from his long drawn out speech observing how disturbed was his state of mind she repeated this stanza:

Heaven bless thee, Kassapa , my friend, the time is past and gone
For idle questions such as these--for are we not alone?--
Come let us in thy hermitage embracing haste to prove
The thousand joys well known to all the votaries of love.

So saying Alambusa thought, "If I stand still, he will not come within reach of me; I will make as if I were running away," and with all the cunning of a woman's wiles she shook the purpose of the ascetic, as she fled in the direction from which she had approached him.

The Master, to make the matter clear, spoke this stanza:

This said, Alambusa, fair nymph, departed with all speed,
Famed Isisinga to entice to some unholy deed.

[158] Then the ascetic, on seeing her depart, cried, "She is off;" and by a swift movement on his part he intercepted her as she was slowly making off and with his hand seized her by the hair of her head.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:

To check her flight, the holy man with motion swift as air
In hot pursuit o'ertook the nymph and held her by the hair.

Just where he stood the lovely maid embraced him in her arms,
And straight his virtue fell before the magic of her charms.

In thought she flew to Indra's throne in Nandana afar;
The god at once divined her wish and sent a golden car,

With trappings spread and all adorned with manifold array:
And there the saint lay in her arms for many a long day.

Three years passed o'er his head as though it were a moment's space,
Until at last the holy man woke up from her embrace.

Green trees he saw on every side; an altar stood hard by,
And verdant groves re-echoing to the loud cuckoo cry.

He looked around and weeping sore he shed a bitter tear;
I make no offering, raise no hymn; no sacrifice is here.

Dwelling within this forest lone, who can my tempter be?
Who by foul practice has o'ercome all sense of right in me,
E'en as a ship with precious freight is swallowed in the sea?"