When the god of love reached that hermitage, he created a semblance of the vernal season by his illusory power. Many-coloured blossoms appeared on the trees of different kinds; cuckoos sang and bees hummed. Delightful breezes, cool, soft and fragrant, blew, fanning the flame of passion. RambhŒ and other heavenly damsels, who looked ever young and were all past masters in amorous sports, sang in undulating tones of various kinds and sported in many ways, ball in hand. The god of love was delighted to see his associates there and employed a variety of deceptive tricks. But his amorous devices had no effect on the sage. Guilty Cupid was now apprehensive of his own destruction. Can anyone dare to trespass the bounds of him who has the Lord of Lakƒm¶ as his great protector. (1—4)