As the sudden surge of astonishment, which had risen like a fresh flood, began to subside a little, the chief among the poets, Nallan Sathanar, hesitated and said, “My lord! If that is so, the poet who composed this song…”

“The emperor of the earth, who now lies bedridden, deprived of the freedom of his legs, is the very one before you!” declared Sundara Chozhar.

Among the poets, various exclamations of wonder and admiration arose. Some, not knowing how to express their state of mind, shook their heads and bodies in confusion. Others, not even aware of their own feelings, sat as if turned to stone!

Sundara Chozhar spoke: “O great poets! Once, in Pazhaiyarai, poets and bards came to see me. Some of you may have been present in that gathering. Each one sang a verse extolling the generosity of the Chola dynasty; they even sang about me. They sang, ‘I gave this to him,’ ‘I granted that to another,’ and so on. At that time, the young princess Kundavai was sitting beside me. After the poets had received their gifts and departed, the royal maiden praised and admired the songs they had sung. I told Kundavai, ‘I can compose a better song than any of these poets!’ and made a vow. Then, just for amusement, I composed this very song. I asked her, ‘Now, give me my reward!’ The child climbed onto my back, sat astride, and said, ‘Here is your reward!’—and gave me two slaps on the cheek! I remember it as if it happened yesterday; but more than eight years have passed since then!…” he said.

“Marvelous! Marvelous!” and “Wonderful! Wonderful!” the poets exclaimed in delight.

At the very mention of the name Kundavai, Vandiyathevan felt a thrill run through his body. He had heard so much about the beauty, wisdom, and intelligence of that peerless princess born to the Chola clan. This was the fortunate father who had begotten such a wondrous royal maiden; and there, seated beside him, was the venerable mother. With what pride Sundara Chozhar spoke of his beloved daughter! How his voice trembled and softened with emotion as he spoke of her!…

Vandiyathevan’s right hand instinctively moved to touch the silken scroll tied around his waist. For within that scroll was the letter he had brought for Princess Kundavai. But as his hand touched it, he was overcome by a strange confusion; his hand froze, motionless… His heart was seized by confusion. ‘Alas! What is this? The palm-leaf letter is missing! Where has it gone? Has it fallen somewhere? Perhaps when I took the emperor’s letter, this one slipped and fell? Where could it have dropped? Might it have fallen in the audience hall? If so, will it fall into the hands of the Younger Pazhuvettaraiyar? If it is found, will some danger sprout from it? Oh, what a mess! What a grave mistake! How can I manage this now?...’

After realizing that the palm-leaf meant for Princess Kundavai was lost, Vandiyathevan could not remain there any longer. The conversation that continued above did not reach his ears properly; even what he heard did not register in his mind.

Sundara Chozhar, seeing the assembly of poets still immersed in astonishment, spoke further:

“I must have told the song I composed in jest to someone. Perhaps I told it to the Isanya Pattachariyar of the Thirumettrali temple at Pazhaiyarai. He must have spread this song throughout the land and made me a laughingstock before the world!...”

“Lord! What if you yourself composed it? The song is truly wonderful! There is no doubt. You are not only the ‘Emperor of the Earth’ but also the ‘Emperor of Poets!’” said Nallan Sathanar.

“Still, if I had composed that song at this moment, I would have added another gift to it. Indra received an elephant, Surya a horse, and Shiva a palanquin—but I would not have stopped there. Did not Lord Shiva kick the demon Marali for Markandeya’s sake? Yama escaped that kick, but his buffalo vehicle could not withstand Shiva’s wrath and perished on the spot. Seeing Yama struggling without a mount, Sundara Chozhar of Pazhaiyarai sent him a new buffalo cart!… I would have added such an imagination. Even now, it is on that buffalo cart that Yama is coming, thundering towards me. Not even the commander of our Tanjore fort, the Younger Pazhuvettaraiyar, can stop Yama-Dharma Raja and his buffalo cart, can he?”

As Sundara Chozhar spoke thus, tears welled up in the eyes of the queen seated beside him, Vanavan Mahadevi. Many of the poets present began to sob and weep.

Only the Younger Pazhuvettaraiyar remained steadfast in spirit.

“Lord! I am ready to do battle with Yama himself in your service!” he declared.

“There is no doubt about that, Commander! Yet, no mortal possesses the strength to wage war against Yama himself. We must pray to the Lord so that we may not fear when we come face to face with Yama. Poets! Was it not a sage in Tamilakam who once sang, ‘We shall not fear Yama’?” said the Emperor.

A poet rose and sang that very hymn:

“We are not vassals to anyone, We shall not fear Yama, We shall not suffer in hell, We are not wavering, We are steadfast, we know not disease…”

At this point, the Emperor interrupted, “Ah! Who but one who has seen the Lord face to face could sing with such courage? Appar Swamigal was afflicted with a terrible disease; by the grace of the Lord, the illness left him, and thus he sang, ‘We know not disease.’ Poets! Cease singing about me and my gifts, and instead, sing such divine verses! Appar, Sambandar, Sundaramurthi—have they not composed thousands of such devotional Tamil songs? How wonderful it would be if all those songs were gathered together! Even a lifetime would not suffice to read, sing, and be enraptured by them, would it not?” he said.

“O King of Kings! If you permit,