Thou shouldst not fear to boldly face the beast;
Shouldst thou come victor back, she will be thine
And thine for ever even after death.
But shouldst thou flee from him to save thy life,
Think then thou art unworthy of her love,
And she shall not e'en see thy coward face;
But, if perchance thou fallest by the beast,
Vouchsafe to her through me with thine own hand
One javelin of the eight which now thou hast,
For she will not outlive her Timmaraj,
But straightway bare her breast and plunge the dart
And lifeless fall a corpse." The youth replied,
"I gladly send this javelin, but tell her
She shall not need its use, for Timmaraj
Will surely come victorious with the beast."
With javelins seven then he sallied forth
Upon his steed to win his bride or die.
Meanwhile the news was spread that Timmaraj
And that young min'ster, who these many years
Was seeking through her mother Chandra's hand,
And Bukka, ruler of the neighbouring state,
Whom she her father fondly wished should wed,
Had started on their steeds to Chengalpore;
Each vowed to be the first to drag the beast
Unto the royal city for six miles,
And there slay him before the palace gate.
The city poured her sons the sight to see,
For in the annals of their country's past
Not e'en the brightest page contained one deed
That could this glorious feat of man surpass;