Fair lady, the very sight of you is indeed the highest hospitality. If you will not take it amiss I would ask you a question.
What stern vow keeps you immured in this solitary temple, depriving all mortals of a vision of so much loveliness?
I harbour a secret desire in my heart, for the fulfilment of which I offer daily prayers to Lord Shiva.
Alas, what can you desire, you who are the desire of the whole world! From the easternmost hill on whose summit the morning sun first prints his fiery foot to the end of the sunset land have I travelled. I have seen whatever is most precious, beautiful and great on the earth. My knowledge shall be yours, only say for what or for whom you seek.
He whom I seek is known to all.
Indeed! Who may this favourite of the gods be, whose fame has captured your heart?
Sprung from the highest of all royal houses, the greatest of all heroes is he.
Lady, offer not such wealth of beauty as is yours on the altar of false reputation. Spurious fame spreads from tongue to tongue like the fog of the early dawn before the sun rises. Tell me who in the highest of kingly lines is the supreme hero?