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some women, are come from their abode in a forest near the Snowy Mountains, and bring a message from Canna.—The king will command.

Dushm. [Surprised.] What! are pious hermits arrived in the company of women?

Cham. It is even so.

Dushm. Order the priest Sómaratá, in my name, to shew them due reverence in the form appointed by the Véda; and bid him attend me. I shall wait for my holy guests in a place fit for their reception.

Cham. I obey.

Dushm. Wardour, point the way to the hearth of the consecrated fire.

Ward. This, O king, this is the way.—[He walks before.]—Here is the entrance of the hallowed enclosure; and there stands the venerable cow to be milked for the sacrifice, looking bright from the recent sprinkling of mystick water.—Let the king ascend.

Dushm. What message can the pious Canna have sent me?—Has the devotion of his pupils been impeded by evil spirits—or by what other calamity?—Or has any harm, alas! befallen the poor herds who graze in the hallowed forest?—Or have the sins of the king tainted the flowers and fruits of the creepers planted by female hermits? My mind is entangled in a labyrinth of confused apprehensions.