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Rh glancing in all directions, pitifully repeats—"My child, who will deliver thee?"

O mother, where is the use of excessive grief? Do I not keep saying, "Cheer up," "Cheer up?"

How can I cheer up, seeing that thou, my son, my only son, art banished by the compassionate king of the Nágas! Alas? why in the universal world was my son thought of? I am utterly unfortunate.

[She faints.

If I do not protect this wretched one, who is at the very point of death, abandoned by his relations, then what good is there in my body? So I will go up to them.

O mother, be comforted.

Alas! my son, when you are given up by Vásuki, the protector of the Nága-world, who else will be your protector?

Shall not I?

O son of Vinatá, destroy me. I am prepared for thy food by the Nága king.