The saint Narayana had spent so many years in solitude, addicted to
prayers and ascetic practices, that the gods dreaded his growing
power, which was making him like unto them, and to break it they sent
down to him some of the seductive apsaras. But the saint held a
flower-stalk to his loins, and Urvasi was born, a girl more beautiful
than the celestial bayadères who had been sent to tempt him. He gave
this girl to the apsaras to take as a present to the god Indra, whose
entertainers they were. She soon became the special ornament of heaven
and Indra used her to bring the saints to fall.
One day King Pururavas, while out driving, hears female voices calling
for help. Five apsaras appear and implore him, if he can drive through
the air, to come to the assistance of their companion Urvasi, who has
been seized and carried away, northward, by a demon. The king
forthwith orders his charioteer to steer in that direction, and
erelong he returns victorious, with the captured maiden on his
chariot. She is still overcome with terror, her eyes are closed, and
as the king gazes at her he doubts that she can be the daughter of a
cold and learned hermit; the moon must have created her, or the god of
love himself. As the chariot descends, Urvasi, frightened, leans
against the king's shoulder, and the little hairs on his body stand up
straight, so much is he pleased thereat. He brings her back to the
other apsaras, who are on a mountain-top awaiting their return.
Urvasi, too much overcome to thank him for her rescue, begs one of her
friends to do it for her, whereupon the apsaras, bidding him good-by,
rise into the air. Urvasi lingers a moment on the pretence that her
pearl necklace has got entangled in a vine, but in reality to get
another peep at the king, who addresses fervent words of thanks to the
bush for having thus given him another chance to look on her face.
"Rising into the air," he exclaims, "this girl tears my heart from my
body and carries it away with her."
The queen soon notices that his heart has gone away with another. She
complains of this estrangement to her maid, to whom she sets the task
of discovering the secret of it. The maid goes at it slyly. Addressing
the king's viduschaka (confidential adviser), she informs him that the
queen is very unhappy because the king addressed her by the name of
the girl he longs for. "What?" retorts the viduschaka--"the king
himself has revealed the secret? He called her Urvasi?" "And who, your
honor, is Urvasi?" says the maid. "She is one of the apsaras," he
says. "The sight of her has infatuated the king's senses so that he
tortures not only the queen but me, the Brahman, too, for he no longer
thinks of eating." But he expresses his conviction that the folly will
not last long, and the maid departs.
Urvasi, tortured, like the king, by love and doubt, suppresses her
bashfulness and asks one of her friends to go with her to get her
pearl necklace which she had left entangled in the vine. "Then you are
hurrying down, surely, to see Pururavas, the king?" says the friend;
"and whom have you sent in advance?" "My heart," replied Urvasi. So
they fly down to the earth, invisible to mortals, and when they see
the king, Urvasi declares that he seems to her even more beautiful
than at their first meeting. They listen to the conversation between
him and the viduschaka. The latter advises his master to seek
consolation by dreaming of a union with his love, or by painting her
picture, but the king answers that dreams cannot come to a man who is
unable to sleep, nor would a picture be able to stop his flood of
tears. "The god of love has pierced my heart and now he tortures me by
denying my wish." Encouraged by these words, but unwilling to make
herself visible, Urvasi takes a piece of birch-bark, writes on it a
message, and throws it down. The king sees it fall, picks it up and
reads:
"I love you, O master; you did not know, nor I, that
you burn with love for me. No longer do I find rest on
my coral couch, and the air of the celestial grove
burns me like fire."
"What will he say to that?" wonders Urvasi, and her friend replies,
"Is there not an answer in his limbs, which have become like withered
lotos stalks?" The king declares to his friend that the message on the
leaf has made him as happy as if he had seen his beloved's face.
Fearing that the perspiration on his hand (the sign of violent love)
might wash away the message, he gives the birch-bark to the
viduschaka. Urvasi's friend now makes herself visible to the king, who
welcomes her, but adds that the sight of her delights him not as it
did when Urvasi was with her. "Urvasi bows before you," the apsara
answers, "and sends this message: 'You were my protector, O master,
when a demon offered me violence. Since I saw you, god Kama has
tortured me violently; therefore you must sometime take pity on me,
great king!'" And the king retorts: "The ardor of love is here equally
great on either side. It is proper that hot iron be welded with hot
iron." After this Urvasi makes herself visible, too, but the king has
hardly had time to greet her, when a celestial messenger arrives to
summon her hastily back to heaven, to her own great distress and the
king's.
Left alone, the king wants to seek consolation in the message written
on the birch-bark. But to their consternation, they cannot find it. It
had dropped from the viduschaka's hand and the wind had carried it
off. "O wind of Malaya," laments the king,
"you are welcome to all the fragrance breathing from
the flowers, but of what use to you is the love-letter
you have stolen from me? Know you not that a hundred
such consolers may save the life of a love-sick man who
cannot hope soon to attain the goal of his desires?"
In the meantime the queen and her maid have appeared in the
background. They come across the birch-bark, see the message on it,
and the maid reads it aloud. "With this gift of the celestial girl let
us now meet her lover," says the queen, and stepping forward, she
confronts the king with the words: "Here is the bark, my husband. You
need not search for it longer." Denial is useless; the king prostrates
himself at her feet, confessing his guilt and begging her not to be
angry at her slave. But she turns her back and leaves him. "I cannot
blame her," says the king; "homage to a woman leaves her cold unless
it is inspired by love, as an artificial jewel leaves an expert who
knows the fire of genuine stones." "Though Urvasi has my heart," he
adds, "yet I highly esteem the queen. Of course, I shall meet her with
firmness, since she has disdained my prostration at her feet."
The reason why Urvasi had been summoned back to heaven so suddenly was
that Indra wanted to hear a play which the celestial manager had
rehearsed with the apsaras. Urvasi takes her part, but her thoughts
are so incessantly with the king that she blunders repeatedly. She
puts passion into lines which do not call for it, and once, when she
is called on to answer the question, "To whom does her heart incline?"
she utters the name of her own lover instead of the one of similar
sound called for in the play. For these mistakes her teacher curses
her and forbids her remaining in heaven any longer. Then Indra says to
the abashed maiden: "I must do a favor to the king whom you love and
who aids me in battle. Go and remain with him at your will, until you
have borne him a son."
Ignorant of the happiness in store for him, the king meanwhile
continues to give utterance to his longings and laments. "The day has
not passed so very sadly; there was something to do, no time for
longing. But how shall I spend the long night, for which there is no
pastime?" The viduschaka counsels hope, and the king grants that even
the tortures of love have their advantage; for, as the force of the
torrent is increased a hundredfold if a rock is interposed, so is the
power of love if obstacles retard the blissful union. The twitching of
his right arm (a favorable sign) augments his hope. At the moment when
he remarks: "The anguish of love increases at night," Urvasi and her
friend came down from the air and hover about him. "Nothing can cool
the flame of my love," he continues,
"neither a bed of fresh flowers, nor moonlight, nor
strings of pearls, nor sandal ointment applied to the
whole body. The only part of my body that has attained
its goal is this shoulder, which touched her in the
chariot."
At these words Urvasi boldly steps before the king, but he pays no
attention to her. "The great king," she complains to her friend,
"remains cold though I stand before him." "Impetuous girl," is the
answer, "you are still wearing your magic veil; he cannot see you."
At this moment voices are heard and the queen appears with her
retinue. She had already sent a message to the king to inform him that
she was no longer angry and had made a vow to fast and wear no finery
until the moon had entered the constellation of Rohini, in order to
express her penitence and conciliate her husband. The king, greeting
her, expresses sorrow that she should weaken her body, delicate as
lotos root, by thus fasting. "What?" he adds, "you yourself conciliate
the slave who ardently longs to be with you and who is anxious to win
your indulgence!" "What great esteem he shows her!" exclaims Urvasi,
with a confused smile; but her companion retorts: "You foolish girl, a
man of the world is most polite when he loves another woman." "The
power of my vow," says the queen, "is revealed in his solicitude for
me." Then she folds her hands, and, bowing reverently, says:
"I call to witness these two gods, the Moon and his
Rohini, that I beg my husband's pardon. Henceforth may
he, unhindered, associate with the woman whom he loves
and who is glad to be his companion."
"Is he indifferent to you?" asks the viduschaka. "Fool!" she replies;
"I desire only my husband's happiness, and give up my own for that.
Judge for yourself whether I love him."
When the queen has left, the king once more abandons himself to his
yearning for his beloved. "Would that she came from behind and put her
lotos hands over my eyes." Urvasi hears the words and fulfils his
wish. He knows who it is, for every little hair on his body stands up
straight. "Do not consider me forward if now I embrace his body," says
Urvasi to her friend; "for the queen has given him to me." "You take
my body as the queen's present," says the king; "but who, you thief,
allowed you before that to steal my heart?" "It shall always be yours
and I your slave alone," he continues. "When I took possession of the
throne I did not feel so near my goal as now when I begin my service
at your feet." "The moon's rays which formerly tortured me now refresh
my body, and welcome are Kama's arrows which used to wound me." "Did
my delaying do you harm?" asks Urvasi, and he replies: "Oh, no! Joy is
sweeter when it follows distress. He who has been exposed to the sun
is cooled by the tree's shade more than others;" and he ends the same
with the words: "A night seemed to consist of a hundred nights ere my
wish was fulfilled; may it be the same now that I am with you, O
beauty! how glad I should be!"
Absorbed by his happy love, the king hands over the reins of
government to his ministers and retires with Urvasi to a forest. One
day he looks for a moment thoughtfully at another girl, whereat Urvasi
gets so jealous that she refuses to accept his apology, and in her
anger forgets that no woman must walk into the forest of the war-god.
Hardly has she entered when she is changed into a vine. The king goes
out of his mind from grief; he roams all over the forest, alternately
fainting and raving, calling upon peacock and cuckoo, bee, swan, and
elephant, antelope, mountain, and river to give him tidings of his
beloved, her with the antelope eyes and the big breasts, and the hips
so broad that she can only walk slowly. At last he sees in a cleft a
large red jewel and picks it up. It is the stone of union which
enables lovers to find one another. An impulse leads him to embrace
the vine before him and it changes to Urvasi. A son is afterward born
to her, but she sends him away before the king knows about it, and has
him brought up secretly lest she be compelled to return at once to
heaven. But Indra sends a messenger to bring her permission to remain
with the king as long as he lives.