The Princess Padmavati having perused this doggrel with a contemptuous look， tore off the first word of the last line， and said to the nurse， angrily， "Get thee gone， O mother of Yama， [FN#59] O unfortunate creature， and take back this answer" ——giving her the scrap of paper —— "to the fool who writes such bad verses. I wonder where he studied the humanities. Begone， and never do such an action again！"
[FN#59] Yama is Pluto； 'mother of Yama' is generally applied to an old scold.
The old nurse， distressed at being so treated， rose up and returned home. Vajramukut was too agitated to await her arrival， so he went to meet her on the way. Imagine his disappointment when she gave him the fatal word and repeated to him exactly what happened， not forgetting to describe a single look！ He felt tempted to plunge his sword into his bosom； but Fortune interfered， and sent him to consult his confidant.
"Be not so hasty and desperate， my prince，" said the pradhan's son， seeing his wild grief； "you have not understood her meaning. Later in life you will be aware of the fact that， in nine cases out of ten， a woman's 'no' is a distinct 'yes.' This morning's work has been good； the maiden asked where you learnt the humanities， which being interpreted signifies 'Who are you？"'
On the next day the prince disclosed his rank to old Lakshmi， who naturally declared that she had always known it. The trust they reposed in her made her ready to address Padmavati once more on the forbidden subject. So she again went to the palace， and having lovingly greeted her nursling， said to her， "The Raja's son， whose heart thou didst fascinate on the brim of the tank， on the fifth day of the moon， in the light half of the month Yeth， has come to my house， and sends this message to thee： "Perform what you promised； we have now come"； and I also tell thee that this prince is worthy of thee： just as thou art beautiful， so is he endowed with all good qualities of mind and body."
When Padmavati heard this speech she showed great anger， and， rubbing sandal on her beautiful hands， she slapped the old woman's cheeks， and cried， "Wretch， Daina （witch）！ get out of my house； did I not forbid thee to talk such folly in my presence？"
The lover and the nurse were equally distressed at having taken the advice of the young minister， till he explained what the crafty damsel meant. "When she smeared the sandal on her ten fingers，" he explained， "and struck the old woman on the face， she signified that when the remaining ten moonlight nights shall have passed away she will meet you in the dark." At the same time he warned his master that to all appearances the lady Padmavati was far too clever to make a comfortable wife. The minister's son especially hated talented intellectual， and strong-minded women； he had been heard to describe the torments of Naglok [FN#60] as the compulsory companionship of a polemical divine and a learned authoress， well stricken in years and of forbidding aspect， as such persons mostly are. Amongst womankind he admired ——theoretically， as became a philosopher ——the small， plump， laughing， chattering， unintellectual， and material-minded. And therefore ——excuse the digression， Raja Vikram ——he married an old maid， tall， thin， yellow， strictly proper， cold-mannered， a conversationist， and who prided herself upon spirituality. But more wonderful still， after he did marry her， he actually loved her ——what an incomprehensible being is man in these matters！
[FN#60] Snake-land： the infernal region.
To return， however. The pradhan's son， who detected certain symptoms of strong-mindedness in the Princess Padmavati， advised his lord to be wise whilst wisdom availed him. This sage counsel was， as might be guessed， most ungraciously rejected by him for whose benefit it was intended. Then the sensible young statesman rated himself soundly for having broken his father's rule touching advice， and atoned for it by blindly forwarding the views of his master.
