13Canto XIII. Dasaratha's Distress.Unworthy of his mournful fate, The mighty king, unfortunate, Lay prostrate in unseemly guise, As, banished from the blissful skies, Yayáti, in his evil day. His merit all exhausted, lay.276 The queen, triumphant in the power Won by her beauty's fatal dower, Still terrible and unsubdued, Her dire demand again renewed: “Great Monarch, 'twas thy boast till now To love the truth and keep the vow; Then wherefore would thy lips refuse The promised boon 'tis mine to choose?” King Daśaratha, thus addressed, With anger raging in his breast, Sank for a while beneath the pain, Then to