MATALI.—­You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions.

KING [looking down],—­How wonderful is the appearance of the earth as
we rapidly descend! 
    Stupendous prospect! yonder lofty hills
    Do suddenly uprear their towering heads
    Amid the plain, while from beneath their crests
    The ground receding sinks; the trees, whose stems
    Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses,
    Rise into elevation, and display
    Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters,
    Like silver threads, but now were scarcely seen,
    Grow into mighty rivers; lo! the earth
    Seems upward hurled by some gigantic power.

MATALI.—­Well described! [Looking with awe.] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the spectacle presented by the earth.

KING.—­Tell me, Matali, what is that range of mountains which, like a bank of clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a stream of gold?  On one side its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side into the western.

MATALI.—­Great Prince, it is called “Golden-peak,"[43] and is the abode
of the attendants of the god of Wealth.  In this spot the highest forms
of penance are wrought out. 
    There Kasyapa, the great progenitor
    Of demons and of gods, himself the offspring
    Of the divine Marichi, Brahma’s son,
    With Aditi, his wife, in calm seclusion,
    Does holy penance for the good of mortals.

KING.—­Then I must not neglect so good an opportunity of obtaining his blessing.  I should much like to visit this venerable personage and offer him my homage.

MATALI.—­By all means!  An excellent idea. [Guides the car to the earth.]

KING [in a tone of wonder].—­How’s this? 
    Our chariot wheels move noiselessly.  Around
    No clouds of dust arise; no shock betokened
    Our contact with the earth; we seem to glide
    Above the ground, so lightly do we touch it.

MATALI.—­Such is the difference between the car of Indra and that of your Majesty.

KING.—­In which direction, Matali, is Kasyapa’s sacred retreat?

MATALI [pointing].—­Where stands yon anchorite, towards the orb
    Of the meridian sun, immovable
    As a tree’s stem, his body half-concealed
    By a huge ant-hill.  Round about his breast
    No sacred cord is twined, but in its stead
    A hideous serpent’s skin.  In place of necklace,
    The tendrils of a withered creeper chafe
    His wasted neck.  His matted hair depends
    In thick entanglement about his shoulders,
    And birds construct their nests within its folds.

KING.—­I salute thee, thou man of austere devotion.

MATALI [holding in the reins of the car].—­Great Prince, we are now in the sacred grove of the holy Kasyapa—­the grove that boasts as its ornament one of the five trees of Indra’s heaven, reared by Aditi.