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Rh Adieu, adieu to thee, O Protap! Go to the eternal home; go, where there is no trouble in the subjugation of the senses; where there is no glamour in beauty; where there is no sin in love; where beauty is infinite, love boundless, happiness inexhaustible, and in that happiness endless virtue. Go there, where one feels for another; where one’s duties are performed by another; where one sings the praise of another; where one is not made to suffer for another. Go to that abode of supreme glory; a hundred thousand Shaibalinis at the end of your feet will not tempt you to a woman’s love again.