Parul; "shall he have flowers for his master's devotion?" "No," said the Champas, "not before the king comes to us." Saying this, they climbed higher up their trees out of reach. The gardener was struck dumb with surprise, and reported the matter to the king, who instantly, with his courtiers, went to the spot, and was about to pluck the flowers, when the Parul called to her brothers in the same way as before, and asked if they would place themselves at the disposal of the king. The Champas answered in the negative, and said, "Let the eldest queen come, and then we will see what can be done." After this, they got a little higher up their trees. The eldest queen came, and the former scene was re-enacted, ending in a summons to the other five queens in succession; and by the time the last of them had arrived the flowers were seen in the sky, like so many stars. Then with a loud voice they cried, "Let the discarded queen, the one who lives by making and selling cow-dung cakes, come to us, and we will place ourselves at her disposal." On this a grand palanquin, fit only for kings and queens, was sent to her hut, and she was carried to the appointed place. With her whole person smeared with cow-dung, of which she had been making cakes, she reached the trees, and anon the Champas got down from the skies to where the Parul was, and out of the eight flowers sprang seven prince-like boys and a girl of uncommon beauty. They fell upon their knees before the discarded queen, calling her by the sweet name of mother, and told the king their sad story.
Every one was struck speechless. Tears flowed in torrents from the eyes of the king, and the other queens trembled with fear. They were at once buried alive, standing, with thorns placed below their feet and above their heads.
The king then entered the palace with his now honoured queen and her children, and from that time bliss and peace pervaded the whole kingdom.
