Entering her bedchamber behind Mrinalini, Hrishikesh said, “Mrinalini! What is this conduct of yours?”

Mrinalini: “What conduct of mine?”

Hrishikesh: “I do not know whose daughter you are, nor what your character is. At my guru’s request, I have given you shelter in my house. You sleep in the same bed as my daughter Manimalini—why do you engage in such wanton behavior?”

Mrinalini: “Whoever accuses me of wantonness is a liar.”

Hrishikesh’s lips quivered with anger. He said, “Wicked girl! You fill your belly with my food, and yet you dare speak insolently to me? Leave my house at once! Perhaps Madhavacharya will be displeased, but I cannot keep such a viper in my home.”

Mu.: As you command—tomorrow morning you shall see me no more.

Hrishikesh believed that, in an age when being cast out from his house would render Mrinalini utterly without refuge, such a reply from her was impossible. Yet, seeing that Mrinalini showed not the slightest fear at the prospect of being shelterless, he thought she must be confident of finding a place in the courtesan’s house, and it was this assurance that emboldened her answer. This only served to further inflame Hrishikesh’s anger. With greater vehemence, he said, “Tomorrow morning! Leave this instant!”

Mr.: As you command. I shall take leave of my friend Manimalini and depart tonight itself.

Saying this, Mrinalini rose to her feet.

Hrishikesh said, “What business has Mrinalini with that harlot?”

This time, tears welled up in Mrinalini’s eyes. She said, “So be it. I have brought nothing with me; I shall take nothing away. I go with only the clothes on my back. I bow to you.”

With these words, and without uttering another, Mrinalini left the bedchamber, cast out.

Just as the other members of the household had risen from their beds at Byomkesh’s cries, so too had Manimalini. Seeing her father accompany Mrinalini all the way to the bedchamber, she had taken the opportunity to converse with her brother, and, understanding his wickedness, had rebuked him. When she had finished her reproaches and was returning, she encountered, in the courtyard, Mrinalini striding swiftly away. She asked, “Friend, where are you going at such an hour, so late at night?”

Mrinalini replied, “Friend Manimalini, may you live long. Speak not with me—your father has forbidden it.”

Mani: What is this, Mrinalini? Why are you weeping? Alas! Who knows what my father has said! Friend, come back. Do not be angry. Manimalini could not persuade Mrinalini to return. Like a proud and steadfast mountain rock, the virtuous lady walked away. Then, in great haste, Manimalini went to her father. Mrinalini, too, came out of the house.

Stepping outside, she saw Girijaya standing at the previously agreed-upon spot. Seeing her, Mrinalini said, “Why are you still standing here?”

Girijaya replied, “I came to tell you to escape. Whether you come or not—I stayed to see.”

Mrinalini asked, “Did you bite the Brahmin?”

Girijaya answered, “So what if I did? A Brahmin is not a cow, after all.”

Mrinalini said, “But I heard you left, singing as you went?”

Girijaya replied, “Afterwards, I heard the sound of your conversation and came back to see. It reminded me—once, people mocked me, calling me ‘black ant.’ That day, the sting was left unpaid. I took the chance to repay the Brahmin’s debt. Now, where will you go?”

Mrinalini asked, “Do you have a house?”

Girijaya said, “Yes. A hut made of leaves.”

Mrinalini asked, “Who else lives there?”

Girijaya replied, “Only an old woman. I call her ‘mother.’”

Mrinalini said, “Come, let us go to your house.”

Girijaya replied, “Come. I was thinking the same.”

Saying this, the two set off. As they walked, Girijaya said, “But it’s only a hut. How many days will you stay there?”

Mrinalini replied, “Tomorrow morning I will go elsewhere.”

Girijaya asked, “Where? To Mathura?”

Mrinalini answered, “I have no place left in Mathura.”

Girijaya asked again, “Then where?” Mrinalini: Yama’s Abode.

After these words, the two remained silent for a while. Then—

Mrinalini said, “Do you truly believe this?”

Girijaya: “Why should I not believe it? But that place exists, and whenever we wish, we may go there. Why not go to another place now?”

Mrinalini: “Where?”

Girijaya: “Nabadwip.”

Mrinalini: “Girijaya, you are a beggar woman, yet some enchantress as well. I shall hide nothing from you. Especially as you are my well-wisher. I have resolved to go to Nabadwip.”

Girijaya: “Will you go alone?”

Mrinalini: “Where shall I find a companion?”

Girijaya (singing):

“At the sight of clouds, ah, the chatak bird flies! Who will go with me, come, come, arise! Lightning laughs in the clouds, I dearly love its play, Whoever will go, let them come, Girijaya leads the way!”

Mrinalini: “What is this mystery, Girijaya?”

Girijaya: “I shall go.”

Mrinalini: “Truly, truly?”

Girijaya: “Truly, I shall go.”

Mrinalini: “Why will you go?”

Girijaya: “It is all the same to me everywhere. There is plenty of alms in the capital.”