"Lotus-eyed and loveliest Draupadi, Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."
The beautiful princess Sâvitri of her own choice wedded the prince Satyavan, son of a blind and exiled king, although she knew that he was doomed by the gods to die within a year. When the year was almost gone, she sat for several days beneath a great tree, abstaining from food and drink, and imploring the gods to save him from death. On the fateful day she accompanied him to the forest to gather the sacred wood for the evening sacrifice. As he struck the tree with the axe he reeled in pain, and exclaiming, "I cannot work!" fell fainting.
Thereon that noble lady, hastening near. Stayed him that would have fallen, with quick arms; And, sitting on the earth, laid her lord's head Tenderly in her lap. So bent she, mute, Fanning his face, and thinking 't was the day-- The hour--which Narad named--the sure fixed date Of dreadful end--when, lo! before her rose A shade majestic. Red his garments were, His body vast and dark; like fiery suns The eyes which burned beneath his forehead-cloth; Armed was he with a noose, awful of mien. This Form tremendous stood by Satyavan, Fixing its gaze upon him. At the sight The fearful Princess started to her feet. Heedfully laying on the grass his head,
Up started she, with beating heart, and joined Her palms for supplication, and spake thus In accents tremulous: "Thou seem'st some God; Thy mien is more than mortal; make me know What god thou art, and what thy purpose here."
And Yama said (the dreadful god of death): "Thou art a faithful wife, O Sâvitrî, True to thy vows, pious, and dutiful; Therefore I answer thee. Yama I am! This Prince thy lord lieth at point to die; Him will I straightway bind and bear from life; This is my office, and for this I come."
Then Sâvitrî spake sadly: "It is taught Thy messengers are sent to fetch the dying; Why is it, Mightiest, thou art come thyself?"
In pity of her love, the Pityless Answered--the King of all the Dead replied: "This was a Prince unparalleled, thy lord; Virtuous as fair, a sea of goodly gifts, Not to be summoned by a meaner voice Than Yama's own: therefore is Yama come."
With that the gloomy God fitted his noose And forced forth from the Prince the soul of him-- Subtile, a thumb in length--which being reft, Breath stayed, blood stopped, the body's grace was gone, And all life's warmth to stony coldness turned. Then, binding it, the Silent Presence bore Satyavan's soul away toward the South.