tears, for he knew the whole extent of his misfortune. His heart
ached, he felt a loathing for the world, and he said with sighs and
groans:[28]
[28] This part of the introduction will remind the reader of the
two royal brothers and their false wives in the introduction to
the _Arabian Nights_. The fate of Bhartari Raja, however, is
historical.
‘Of what value are these delusions of wealth and affection, whose
sweetness endures for a moment and becomes eternal bitterness? Love
is like the drunkard’s cup: delicious is the first drink, palling are
the draughts that succeed it, and most distasteful are the dregs.
What is life but a restless vision of imaginary pleasures and of
real pains, from which the only waking is the terrible day of death?
The affection of this world is of no use, since, in consequence
of it, we fall at last into hell. For which reason it is best to
practise the austerities of religion, that the Deity may bestow upon
us hereafter that happiness which he refuses to us here!’
Thus did Bhartari Raja determine to abandon the world. But before
setting out for the forest, he could not refrain from seeing the
queen once more, so hot was the flame which Kama had kindled in his
heart. He therefore went to the apartments of his women, and having
caused Dangalah Rani to be summoned, he asked her what had become of
the fruit which he had given to her. She answered that, according to
his command, she had eaten it. Upon which the Regent showed her the
apple, and she beholding it stood aghast, unable to make any reply.
The Raja gave careful orders for her beheading; he then went out, and
having had the fruit washed, ate it. He quitted the throne to be a
jogi, or religious mendicant, and without communicating with any one
departed into the jungle. There he became such a devotee that death
had no power over him, and he is wandering still. But some say that
he was duly absorbed into the essence of the Deity.
* * * * *
We are next told how the valiant Vikram returned to his own country.
Thus Vikram’s throne remained empty. When the news reached King
Indra, Regent of the Lower Firmament and Protector of Earthly
Monarchs, he sent Prithwi Pala, a fierce giant,[29] to defend the
city of Ujjayani till such time as its lawful master might reappear,
and the guardian used to keep watch and ward night and day over his
trust.
[29] In the original, ‘Div’—a supernatural being, god, or demon.
This part of the plot is variously told. According to some, Raja
Vikram was surprised, when entering the city, to see a grand
procession at the house of a potter, and a boy being carried off
on an elephant, to the violent grief of his parents. The king
inquired the reason of their sorrow, and was told that the wicked
Div that guarded the city was in the habit of eating a citizen
per diem. Whereupon the valorous Raja caused the boy to dismount;
took his place; entered the palace; and, when presented as food
for the demon, displayed his pugilistic powers in a way to excite
the monster’s admiration.
In less than a year the valorous Raja Vikram became thoroughly tired
of wandering about the woods half dressed: now suffering from famine,
then exposed to the attacks of wild beasts, and at all times very
ill at ease. He reflected also that he was not doing his duty to his
wives and children; that the heir-apparent would probably make the
worst use of the parental absence; and finally, that his subjects,
deprived of his fatherly care, had been left in the hands of a man
who, for aught he could say, was not worthy of the high trust. He
had also spied out all the weak points of friend and foe. Whilst
these and other equally weighty considerations were hanging about the
Raja’s mind, he heard a rumour of the state of things spread abroad;
that Bhartari, the regent, having abdicated his throne, had gone away
into the forest. Then quoth Vikram to his son, ‘We have ended our
wayfarings, now let us turn our steps homewards!’
The gong was striking the mysterious hour of midnight as the king and
the young prince approached the principal gate. And they were pushing
through it when a monstrous figure rose up before them, and called
out with a fearful voice, ‘Who are ye, and where are ye going? Stand
and deliver your names!’
‘I am Raja Vikram,’ rejoined the king, half choked with rage, ‘and I
am come to mine own city. Who art thou that darest to stop or stay
me?’
‘That question is easily answered,’ cried Prithwi Pala the giant, in
his roaring voice; ‘the gods have sent me to protect Ujjayani. If
thou be really Raja Vikram, prove thyself a man: first fight with me,
and then return to thine own.’
The warrior king cried ‘Sadhu!’ wanting nothing better. He girt his
girdle tight round his loins, summoned his opponent into the empty
space beyond the gate, told him to stand on guard, and presently
began to devise some means of closing with or running in upon him.
The giant’s fists were large as water melons, and his knotted arms
whistled through the air like falling trees, threatening fatal blows.
Besides which the Raja’s head scarcely reached the giant’s stomach,
and the latter, each time he struck out, whooped so abominably loud,
that no human nerves could remain unshaken.
At last Vikram’s good luck prevailed. The giant’s left foot slipped,
and the hero, seizing his antagonist’s other leg, began to trip him
up. At the same moment the young prince, hastening to his parent’s
assistance, jumped viciously upon the enemy’s naked toes. By their
united exertions they brought him to the ground, when the son sat
down upon his stomach, making himself as weighty as he well could,
whilst the father, climbing up to the monster’s throat, placed
himself astride upon it, and pressing both thumbs upon his eyes,
threatened to blind him if he would not yield.
Then the giant, modifying the bellow of his voice, cried out—
‘O Raja, thou hast overthrown me, and I grant thee thy life.’
‘Surely thou art mad, monster,’ replied the king, in jeering tone,
half laughing, half angry. ‘To whom grantest thou life? If I desire
it I can kill thee; how, then, dost thou talk about granting me my
life?’
‘Vikram of Ujjayani,’ said the giant, ‘be not too proud! I will save
thee from a nearly impending death. Only hearken to the tale which I
have to tell thee, and use thy judgment, and act upon it. So shalt
thou rule the world free from care, and live without danger, and die
happily.’
‘Proceed,’ quoth the Raja, after a moment’s thought, dismounting from
the giant’s throat, and beginning to listen with all his ears.
The giant raised himself from the ground, and when in a sitting
posture, began in solemn tones to speak as follows:
‘In short, the history of the matter is, that three men were born
in this same city of Ujjayani, in the same lunar mansion, in the
same division of the great circle described upon the ecliptic,
and in the same period of time. You, the first, were born in the
house of a king. The second was an oilman’s son, who was slain by
the third, a jogi, or anchorite, who kills all he can, wafting the
sweet scent of human sacrifice to the nostrils of Durga, goddess of
destruction. Moreover, the holy man, after compassing the death of
the oilman’s son, has suspended him head downwards from a mimosa tree
in a cemetery. He is now anxiously plotting thy destruction. He hath
murdered his own child——’
‘And how came an anchorite to have a child?’ asked Raja Vikram,
incredulously.
‘That is what I am about to tell thee,’ replied the giant. ‘In the
good days of thy generous father, Gandharba-Sena, as the court was
taking its pleasure in the forest, they saw a devotee, or rather a
devotee’s head, protruding from a hole in the ground. The white
ants had surrounded his body with a case of earth, and had made
their home upon his skin. All kinds of insects and small animals
crawled up and down the face, yet not a muscle moved. Wasps had hung
their nests to its temples, and scorpions wandered in and out of the
matted and clotted hair; yet the hermit felt them not. He spoke to
no one; he received no gifts; and had it not been for the opening
of his nostrils, as he continually inhaled the pungent smoke of a
thorn fire, man would have deemed him dead. Such were his religious
austerities.
‘Thy father marvelled much at the sight, and rode home in profound
thought. That evening, as he sat in the hall of audience, he could
speak of nothing but the devotee; and his curiosity soon rose to such
a pitch, that he proclaimed about the city a reward of one hundred
gold pieces to any one that could bring to court this anchorite of
his own free will.
‘Shortly afterwards, Vasantasena, a singing and dancing girl more
celebrated for wit and beauty than for sagesse or discretion,
appeared before thy sire, and offered for the petty inducement of a
gold bangle to bring the anchorite into the palace, carrying a baby
on his shoulder.
‘The king hearing her speak was astonished, gave her a betel leaf in
token that he held her to her promise, and permitted her to depart,
which she did with a laugh of triumph.
‘Vasantasena went directly to the jungle, where she found the pious
man faint with thirst, shrivelled with hunger, and half dead with
heat and cold. She cautiously put out the fire. Then, having prepared
a confection, she approached from behind and rubbed upon his lips
a little of the sweetmeat, which he licked up with great relish.
Thereupon she made more and gave it to him. After two days of this
generous diet he gained some strength, and on the third, as he felt
a finger upon his mouth, he opened his eyes and said, “Why hast thou
come here?”
‘The girl, who had her story in readiness, replied: “I am the
daughter of a deity, and have practised religious observances in the
heavenly regions. I have now come into this forest!” And the devotee,
who began to think how much more pleasant is such society than
solitude, asked her where her hut was, and requested to be led there.
‘Then Vasantasena, having unearthed the holy man and compelled him to
purify himself, led him to the abode which she had caused to be built
for herself in the wood. She explained its luxuries by the nature of
her vow, which bound her to indulge in costly apparel, in food with
six flavours, and in every kind of indulgence.[30] In course of time
the hermit learned to follow her example; he gave up inhaling smoke,
and he began to eat and drink as a daily occupation.
[30] In India, there is still a monastic order the pleasant duty
of whose members is to enjoy themselves as much as possible. It
has been much the same in Europe. ‘Représentez-vous le couvent de
l’Escurial ou du Mont Cassin, où les cénobites ont toutes sortes
de commodités, nécessaires, utiles, délectables, superflues,
surabondantes, puisqu’ils ont les cent cinquante mille, les
quatre cent mille, les cinq cent mille écus de rente; et jugez
si monsieur l’abbé a de quoi laisser dormir la méridienne à ceux
qui voudront.’—_Saint Augustin, de l’Ouvrage des Moines_, by Le
Camus, Bishop of Belley, quoted by Voltaire, _Dict. phil._, sub
v. ‘Apocalypse.’
‘At length Kama began to trouble him. Briefly the saint and saintess
were made man and wife, by the simple form of matrimony called the
Gandharbavivaha,[31] and about ten months afterwards a son was born
to them. Thus the anchorite came to have a child.
[31] This form of matrimony was recognised by the ancient
Hindus, and is frequent in books. It is a kind of Scotch
wedding—ultra-Caledonian—taking place by mutual consent,
without any form or ceremony. The Gandharbas are heavenly
minstrels of Indra’s court, who are supposed to be witnesses.
‘Remained Vasantasena’s last feat. Some months passed: then she said
to the devotee her husband, “Oh saint! let us now, having finished
our devotions, perform a pilgrimage to some sacred place, that all
the sins of our bodies may be washed away, after which we will die
and depart into everlasting happiness.” Cajoled by these speeches,
the hermit mounted his child upon his shoulder and followed her where
she went—directly into Raja Gandharba-Sena’s palace.
‘When the king and the ministers and the officers and the courtiers
saw Vasantasena, and her spouse carrying the baby, they recognised
her from afar. The Raja exclaimed, “Lo! this is the very singing girl
who went forth to bring back the devotee.” And all replied: “O great
monarch! thou speakest truly; this is the very same woman. And be
pleased to observe that whatever things she, having asked leave to
undertake, went forth to do, all these she hath done!” Then gathering
around her they asked her all manner of questions, as if the whole
matter had been the lightest and the most laughable thing in the
world.
‘But the anchorite, having heard the speeches of the king and his
courtiers, thought to himself, “They have done this for the purpose
of taking away the fruits of my penance.” Cursing them all with
terrible curses, and taking up his child, he left the hall. Thence he
went to the forest, slaughtered the innocent, and began to practise
austerities with a view to revenge that hour, and, having slain his
child, he will attempt thy life. His prayers have been heard. In the
first place they deprived thee of thy father. Secondly, they cast
enmity between thee and thy brother, thus dooming him to an untimely
end. Thirdly, they are now working thy ruin. The anchorite’s design
is to offer up a king and a king’s son to his patroness Durga, and
by virtue of such devotional act he will obtain the sovereignty of
the whole world!
‘But I have promised, O Vikram, to save thee, if such be the will of
Fortune, from impending destruction. Therefore hearken well unto my
words. Distrust them that dwell amongst the dead, and remember that
it is lawful and right to strike off his head that would slay thee.
So shalt thou rule the universal earth, and leave behind thee an
immortal name!’
Suddenly Prithwi Pala, the giant, ceased speaking, and disappeared.
Vikram and his son then passed through the city gates, feeling their
limbs to be certain that no bones were broken, and thinking over the
scene that had occurred.
* * * * *
We now are informed how the valiant King Vikram met with the Vampire.
It was the spring season when the Raja returned, and the Holi
festival[32] caused dancing and singing in every house. Ujjayani
was extraordinarily happy and joyful at the return of her ruler,
who joined in her gladness with all his kingly heart. The faces
and dresses of the public were red and yellow with gulal and
abir,—perfumed powders,[33]—which were sprinkled upon one another
in token of merriment. Musicians deafened the citizens’ ears, dancing
girls performed till ready to faint with fatigue, the manufacturers
of comfits made their fortunes, and the Nine Gems of Science
celebrated the auspicious day with the most long-winded odes. The
royal hero, decked in regal attire, and attended by many thousands
of state palanquins glittering with their various ornaments, and
escorted by a suite of a hundred kingly personages, with their
martial array of the four hosts, of cavalry, elephants, chariots, and
infantry, and accompanied by Amazon girls, lovely as the suite of the
gods, himself a personification of majesty, bearing the white parasol
of dominion, with a golden staff and tassels, began once more to
reign.
[32] The Hindu Saturnalia.
[33] The powders are of wheaten flour, mixed with wild-ginger
root, sappan-wood, and other ingredients. Sometimes the stuff is
thrown in syringes.
After the first pleasures of return, the king applied himself
unremittingly to good government and to eradicating the abuses which
had crept into the administration during the period of his wanderings.
Mindful of the wise saying, ‘if the Raja did not punish the guilty,
the stronger would roast the weaker like a fish on the spit,’ he
began the work of reform with an iron hand. He confiscated the
property of a councillor who had the reputation of taking bribes; he
branded the forehead of a sudra or servile man whose breath smelt
of ardent spirits, and a goldsmith having been detected in fraud
he ordered him to be cut to shreds with razors as the law in its
mercy directs. In the case of a notorious evil speaker he opened
the back of his head and had his tongue drawn through the wound. A
few murderers he burned alive on iron beds, praying the while that
Vishnu might have mercy upon their souls. His spies were ordered,
as the shastra called ‘The Prince’ advises, to mix with robbers and
thieves with a view of leading them into situations where they might
most easily be entrapped, and once or twice when the fellows were
too wary, he seized them and their relations and impaled them all,
thereby conclusively proving, without any mistake, that he was king
of earth.
With the sex feminine he was equally severe. A woman convicted of
having poisoned an elderly husband in order to marry a younger man
was thrown to the dogs, which speedily devoured her. He punished
simple infidelity by cutting off the offender’s nose—an admirable
practice, which is not only a severe penalty to the culprit, but also
a standing warning to others, and an efficient preventative to any
recurrence of the fault. Faithlessness combined with bad example or
brazenfacedness was further treated by being led in solemn procession
through the bazar mounted on a diminutive and crop-eared donkey, with
the face turned towards the crupper. After a few such examples the
women of Ujjayani became almost modest; it is the fault of man when
they are not tolerably well behaved in one point at least.
Every day as Vikram sat upon the judgment-seat, trying causes and
punishing offences, he narrowly observed the speech, the gestures,
and the countenances of the various criminals and litigants and
their witnesses. Ever suspecting women, as I have said, and holding
them to be the root of all evil, he never failed when some sin or
crime more horrible than usual came before him, to ask the accused,
‘Who is she?’ and the suddenness of the question often elicited
the truth by accident. For there can be nothing thoroughly and
entirely bad unless a woman is at the bottom of it; and knowing
this, Raja Vikram made certain notable hits under the most
improbable circumstances, which had almost given him a reputation
for omniscience. But this is easily explained: a man intent upon
squaring the circle will see squares in circles wherever he looks,
and sometimes he will find them.
In disputed cases of money claims, the king adhered strictly to
established practice, and consulted persons learned in the law. He
seldom decided a cause on his own judgment, and he showed great
temper and patience in bearing with rough language from irritated
plaintiffs and defendants, from the infirm, and from old men beyond
eighty. That humble petitioners might not be baulked in having access
to the ‘fountain of justice,’ he caused an iron box to be suspended
by a chain from the windows of his sleeping apartment. Every morning
he ordered the box to be opened before him, and listened to all the
placets at full length. Even in this simple process he displayed
abundant cautiousness. For, having forgotten what little of the
humanities he had mastered in his youth, he would hand the paper to
a secretary whose business it was to read it out before him; after
which operation the man of letters was sent into an inner room, and
the petition was placed in the hands of a second scribe. Once it so
happened by the bungling of the deceitful kayasths (clerks) that an
important difference was found to occur in the same sheet. So upon
strict inquiry one secretary lost his ears and the other his right
hand. After this petitions were rarely if ever falsified.
The Raja Vikram also lost no time in attacking the cities and towns
and villages of his enemies, but the people rose to a man against
him, and hewing his army to pieces with their weapons, vanquished
him. This took place so often that he despaired of bringing all the
earth under the shadow of his umbrella.
At length on one occasion when near a village he listened to a
conversation of the inhabitants. A woman having baked some cakes was
giving them to her child, who leaving the edges would eat only the
middle. On his asking for another cake, she cried, ‘This boy’s way is
like Vikram’s in his attempt to conquer the world!’ On his enquiring
‘Mother, why, what am I doing; and what has Vikram done?’ ‘Thou, my
boy,’ she replied, ‘throwing away the outside of the cake eatest
the middle only. Vikram also in his ambition, without subduing
the frontiers before attacking the towns, invades the heart of the
country and lays it waste. On that account, both the townspeople and
others rising, close upon him from the frontiers to the centre, and
destroy his army. _That_ is his folly.’
Vikram took notice of the woman’s words. He strengthened his army
and resumed his attack on the provinces and cities, beginning with
the frontiers, reducing the outer towns and stationing troops in the
intervals. Thus he proceeded regularly with his invasions. After a
respite, adopting the same system and marshalling huge armies, he
reduced in regular course each kingdom and province till he became
monarch of the whole world.
It so happened that one day as Vikram the Brave sat upon the judgment
seat, a young merchant, by name Mal Deo, who had lately arrived at
Ujjayani with loaded camels and elephants, and with the reputation
of immense wealth, entered the palace court. Having been received
with extreme condescension, he gave into the king’s hand a fruit
which he had brought in his own, and then spreading a prayer carpet
on the floor he sat down. Presently, after a quarter of an hour, he
arose and went away. When he had gone the king reflected in his mind:
‘Under this disguise, perhaps, is the very man of whom the giant
spoke.’ Suspecting this, he did not eat the fruit, but calling the
master of the household he gave the present to him, ordering him
to keep it in a very careful manner. The young merchant, however,
continued every day to court the honour of an interview, each time
presenting a similar gift.
By chance one morning Raja Vikram went, attended by his ministers, to
see his stables. At this time the young merchant also arrived there,
and in the usual manner placed a fruit in the royal hand. As the king
was thoughtfully tossing it in the air, it accidentally fell from his
fingers to the ground. Then the monkey, who was tethered amongst the
horses to draw calamities from their heads,[34] snatched it up and
tore it to pieces. Whereupon a ruby of such size and water came forth
that the king and his ministers, beholding its brilliancy, gave vent
to expressions of wonder.
[34] The Persian proverb is—‘Bala e tavilah bar sar i maimun:’
‘The woes of the stable be on the monkey’s head!’ In some Moslem
countries a hog acts prophylactic. Hence probably Mungo Park’s
troublesome pig at Ludamar.
Quoth Vikram to the young merchant severely—for his suspicious were
now thoroughly roused—‘Why hast thou given to us all this wealth?’
‘O great king,’ replied Mal Deo, demurely, ‘it is written in the
scriptures (shastra) “Of Ceremony” that “we must not go empty-handed
into the presence of the following persons, namely, Rajas, spiritual
teachers, judges, young maidens, and old women whose daughters we
would marry.” But why, O Vikram, dost thou speak of one ruby only,
since in each of the fruits which I have laid at thy feet there is a
similar jewel?’
Having heard this speech, the king said to the master of his
household, ‘Bring all the fruits which I have entrusted to thee.’ The
treasurer, on receiving the royal command, immediately brought them,
and having split them, there was found in each one a ruby, one and
all equally perfect in size and water. Raja Vikram beholding such
treasures was excessively pleased. Having sent for a lapidary, he
ordered him to examine the rubies, saying, ‘We cannot take anything
with us out of this world. Virtue is a noble quality to possess here
below—so tell justly what is the value of each of these gems.’[35]
[35] So the moribund father of the ‘babes in the wood’ lectures
his wicked brother, their guardian:
‘To God and you I recommend
My children deare this day:
But little while, be sure, we have
Within this world to stay.’