permitted the body of Kâmapâla to be taken to his own house, where I
had by that time arrived, and was ready to receive it.

Meanwhile, my mother prepared for death, and, resisting all the
entreaties of her friends and servants, expressed her determination to
be burnt together with her husband.

When everything for the funeral was arranged, she came into the
private room, where the body had been laid, and there saw her husband
fully recovered, and me sitting by him. Great was her delight and
astonishment at this wonderful and sudden change; and having first
embraced her husband, she threw her arms round me, and, with a voice
broken by sobs of joy, said: "O, my darling son, how can I deserve
such happiness?--I, who so cruelly abandoned you at your birth, and
suffered you to be taken away, as if dead? but your father was not to
blame for that; he, indeed, deserves to have been restored to life by
you, and to have the happiness of seeing you. Cruel, indeed, was
Târâvali, who, when she had received you again from Kuvera, did not
bring you at once to me; but what could I expect from her? It is
through her unkindness in leaving us that all this misfortune has
happened; but I must not complain; I was not worthy, without previous
suffering, to enjoy such great happiness. Come and embrace me."

Saying this, she again threw her arms round me, and kissed me
repeatedly, trembling with emotion, and shedding many tears of joy.
My father's feelings were scarcely less excited. He seemed to have
risen from the lowest depth of misery to the summit of felicity, and
esteemed himself more fortunate than even Indra the King of the Gods.

When we were all somewhat calmed, and I had explained to my father all