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Firmly ascertaining it as a good omen of acquiring his wishedfor object, with a sword in his hand, with a covering of dark cloth over his entire body, and with very gentle footsteps, the King went to the spot and sitting behind Gborasiva, he began to hear attentively. Without the least care for some unexpected danger on account of the intensity of his concentration, without the least thought about the adversity of Fate, and without the least suspicion about the arrival of the King there on the part of Ghorativa, the King heard Ghoraśiva uttering mystical verses intended for stiffening him in accordance with the method of witch-craft previously commenced. The king though “ Ab! He Is a wicked hermit. Having killed me by the sharp scissorsresembling the mouth of enraged God of Death, he intends pacifying the Fire, because miscreant deities become obedient by gifts of sacrificial offerings of bodies of eminent persons. Now, what is proper for me to do in this matter? Should I cut off the head of this hypocrite by this sharp sword like a pith of plantain, although he is in meditation? Or, it seems he will be ashamed of receiving a blow from a sword sharpened by stroker on rutting elephants of my Irrestible enemy. Any how, at such an opportunity he is decidedly not fit to be connived at. He is thinking of killing me after making me rigid by spell; his mind is engrossed in concentration. However, if I think of killing him in this state, my parents, and other venerable persons in heavens will become displeased. It is advisable, therefore, that, standing at a distance I should caution him, and that I should strike him after I receive a blow from him.” With this idea in his mind, the king stood at a distance, and said, “O hypocrite, O wicked man | Pick up a weapon in your hand ". Becoming enraged at the interruption of concentration of his meditation, Ghorasiva, with red-shot eyes, and terrible knitting of eyebrows on his forehead, suddenly got up, and cutting his dark brald of hair with the sharp scissors in his hand, proudly roaringly yelled, “O vile king ! O shamelass creature, O courageless wretch ! You do not run away, so that, I may deliver you from your acute pangs on the subject of a son to you. The king then
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