Queen
(weeping, having covered her face with her dress).
The omen be averted! I will not weep. O Malayavatí, revive. Rise, my child, rise. At this time, if ever, look on the face of thy husband.
Malayavatí (coming to herself).
Alas! my husband!
Queen (stopping the mouth of Malayavatí).
O child, act not thus. May this omen be averted.
King (to himself, with tears).
Why do I not burst into a hundred pieces through sorrow, as I behold my son giving up his life, which, the rest of his body being destroyed, has retreated to his throat as to its last remaining stronghold?
Malayavatí.
Alas! my husband! I must indeed be very wicked, since, even when I see my husband in such a state, I yet live on!
Queen (stroking the limbs of the hero, and
addressing Garuda).
O thou who fearest naught, how could this body of my son, in the fresh bloom of youth, be brought by thee to such a state as this?
Jímútaváhana.
O mother, not so indeed. What harm has been done by him? Was it not in reality just the same before?
