Reverence to Ganesha, Lord of the Elephant Trunk, that, in a day found
fortunate, he aid me to tell this tale, which whoso heareth shall
receive prosperity in this world and in that other.
In the age of the ancestors there dwelt a great King in Vidarbha, with a
Queen of the highest grace and beauty, and these did all things pleasing
to the gods, making rich gifts to Brahmans and honouring kine, and in
reward for these things the gods gave to them three sons and a daughter,
and this was Damayanti, the loveliest of earthly women. And she was
known throughout the universe as the “Consumer of Hearts”; for the very
report of her beauty agitated the hearts of thousands who might never
hope to see it. Slender-waisted was she and stately as a young
palm-tree, and though she was a mortal, Sri, the wife of Narayana, had
dowered her with her own eyes, black and soft and so long-lidded that
they all but touched the silken hair upon her temples. The very gods in
the Paradise of Indra heard the report of this marvel and coveted it.
Now as Damayanti, like a crescent moon, rounded into maidenhood, it so
befell that her maidens in talk together praised none but that Tiger
among Men, Nala the Prince. For they said: “This Prince overpasses all
men, and what shall be said of him? Surely he is laughing, bold and
handsome as Kama, the God of Love—he whose bow is strung with
honey-bees, sweet and stinging. The arrows of his eyes are pointed with
five-tongued flame. All hearts burn in his glances.”
And Damayanti silently heard and pondered.
But the report of her had in like manner reached Nala, and sweet
thoughts grew up in him for the slender-waisted maid. And he dreamed of
her.
Now it chanced that one day, wandering in the great woods that
surrounded his palace, he saw a flock of swans, white and beautiful as
though washed in the waters of Lake Manasarovar, that cold jewel of the
Himalaya, and indeed they were of that royal race of swans who, dwelling
there, feed only on unpierced seed-pearls, and therefore are they so
white. So, as they drew together, the Prince, stealing noiseless as a
snake through the jungle, seized one, for love of its whiteness, and
held the long throat clutched in his hands and the plumed wings beneath
his knees.
But in those days royal men had understanding of the lesser creatures of
the gods, and that king-swan spoke and Nala heard his speech: “O Tiger
among Men, slay me not. To me also is my life dear and precious! Have
pity, for I will do good service. I will fly through many leagues of
air, and in the ear of the Princess Damayanti will I say that of all men
you are the noblest and stateliest. And having heard this, she will
greatly desire you.”
And by the favour of Kama, the Prince withdrew his hands, saying, “Swan,
observe your promise; for this is the duty of the honourable.”
And the swan, inclining his head, flew away with his companions, having
instructed them as to the course they should pursue on alighting in the
gardens of Vidarbha.
Now in the garden-close the Princess and her maidens played, and she
excelled them all, though each was fair. And the swans, seeing these
lovely ones among the flowers, fluttered to earth and stood near them,
arching their necks and preening their feathers, and their whiteness
delighted the Princess and she said, laughing: “Chase these swans, each
one a swan; for it appears that they desire captivity at our hands.”
And every maiden pursued a swan, with laughter and sweet cries, and as
each all but seized her swan, the swan eluded her and fluttered a little
farther. Most lovely of all sights was it to behold the maidens and the
swans, as, equal in beauty, they fluttered hither and thither among the
flowers and the trees. And Damayanti, laughing with her voice of music,
pursued her swan, she also, that lovely lady of the long eyes, not
knowing that her heart was the destined prey of the swan she sought to
capture.
For, when her hands were even upon the snow of his plumage, that
king-swan eluded her again and spoke in the speech of man, and in
amazement she stood to hear what he would say, as he inclined his head
before her feet. “Lady, O Most Beautiful, Damayanti, Consumer of Hearts,
there is a Prince in Nishada, and his name—oh, mark it well—is Nala.
As the Twin Stars shine in the sky, so he shines among men. Surely we
swans, flying in the pure air, see all men and divine beings and the
great gods. But we have seen none like unto Nala. Pearl among Women, if
you should wed this Prince of Princes, were it not better than well?”
And when Damayanti heard this, she looked sidelong through her lashes
like a maid, for she was young and tender, and she said this, very
softly: “Dear swan—white swan! Fly and tell this thing to the Prince.”
And that white beauty, the feeder on pearls, said, “Hearing and obeying,
I go.”
And with strong strokes of his pinions he rose into the sky, followed by
his mates, and clove the air to Nishada and told the Prince her word,
being the destined messenger of love.
But he carried the heart of the maid upon his wings; for Damayanti sat
her down upon the flowers and, when her ladies returned from chasing the
swans, they found her with her hand pressed upon her empty bosom and
tears welling like jewels from the dark deeps of her eyes. And though
they entreated her to speak and reveal the cause of her grief, she would
say nothing but this one thing: “All is well—and ill! Trouble me no
further.”
And they returned, sighing, to the palace, with Care among them for a
companion.
For Damayanti wanned and paled. Like a caged jungle-dweller would she
pace up and down, unresting, her eyes upon the ground. Food lost its
savour, and what was sleep but a weariness? And in the garden-close she
sat in her gold gown and watched the peacocks displaying their splendour
to the sun as they danced before the rains, and she only prayed for
wings that she might fly to Nishada. Very full of mischief were the
words of that swan!
So her royal mother, instructed by the maidens that the Princess pined
away daily, went to her lord, the King, and said: “Such and such is the
case of our daughter. Do then according to your wisdom.”
And the King pondered the thing deeply; for he loved his daughter, and
he answered: “I perceive she is no longer a child. Youth and maidenhood
are waxing in her, and who can gainsay them? It is now fitting that she
make her choice among princes and kings.”
So the careful King, having considered, sent forth this message to the
courts of kings: “Lords of the Earth, it is with us an ancient and
honourable custom that the daughters of kings make choice of a husband
suitable to their degree and royalty; nor do we force them to unchosen
marriages. And this is known as the _swayamvara_ of a king’s daughter.
My Princess is now of due age to choose her lord. Come therefore to the
swayamvara of Damayanti, receiving honourable welcome.”
And the news flew like gongs and drums over the land; for there was no
man but knew of the loveliness of the Consumer of Hearts, and each one
thought within himself, “She will choose me, and yet if not, still shall
I see that face of faces.”
So from every country came processions to the court of Vidarbha: trains
of elephants walking slowly beneath the weight of the gold and silver
castles upon their backs, where sat the kings of men; horses with
jewelled saddles and bridles, the very stirrups glittering with
clarified gems that the feet of kings might tread upon them; glorious
companies of fighting-men, bearing their pennons; archers with bows
tipped with ivory, strung until they sang like the strings of the
_sitar_ in the wind. So in armies they came until the earth groaned
beneath their feet, and the great camps were set about Vidarbha.
Also came Nala the Prince, gallantly accompanied, riding to Vidarbha,
and thoughts of love were thick as honey-bees in his heart.
But who shall discern the thoughts of the Gods?
For it chanced that two great saints, Narada and Parvata, mighty in
their austerities, pure and high of thought, ascended the heavens at
that time, to make a visit and obeisance to Indra the God, in his own
Paradise. And he, the King of the Clouds, rising to them, did them
honour and welcomed them; for the presence of the saints is as a rich
perfume in the nostrils of the gods. Therefore he saluted the two,
asking tidings of the world.
And Narada replied: “High God, it is well with the world. It is well
with the kings. There is no complaint.”
And Indra spoke again: “But where are my fighters—the kings of men? Do
they not love—do they not fight as of old? I see no souls of haughty
warriors entering my heaven. Is it all peace? Where are my
fighting-men?”
So Narada made reply: “O Cloudy God, all is peace upon the earth, and
there is no thought but of beauty: the King of Vidarbha makes the
choosing for his daughter and the kings and princes dream of naught
else; for she is the very Lotus of the World and the Pearl of Women. And
the kings flock as one man to Vidarbha.”
And while Narada said this, the Immortals gathered to hear, and when he
spoke of the maid Damayanti, their eyes shot forth peculiar radiance and
they said: “To this maid’s choosing we four will go. She is worthy to
choose among the deathless rather than the kings, and she shall reign in
the Paradise of Indra and sit beside that divinity whose bride she wills
to be.”
And Indra, the Cloudy God, said, “I will go.”
And Agni, the Lord of Fire, said, “I also.”
And Varuna, the King of Waters, said, “And I.”
And the Dark Presence that is Yama, the Lord of Death, said, “I go.”
So their winged chariots that are self-directed, flying like thought
where they will, awaited them, and the gods ascended them and, thinking
of Vidarbha, were presently beside its walls.
But Nala the Prince, approaching with his company of great men and
soldiers, elated with love and hope, looked up and beheld the Gods,
seated in their golden chariots. And these, the Protectors of the World,
saw him and hesitation in their purpose seized them, because he shone
like the sun and was a man indeed, and their divine hearts adjudged him
worthy even of Damayanti—so straight and tall he stood and like a
king’s lance, and in the beauty of his brows and strength of his person
was there no blemish from head to foot. Even like their own brother,
Kama, the God of Love, so he seemed to them.
But, descending through the clouds and softening their divine voices
that human ears might abide them, they accosted him: “Aho! Prince of
Nishada—Prince Royal! We have an errand. We have need of a noble
messenger. Who will go for us?”
And he did homage, pressing his palms together, answering: “I see Four
Shining Ones. I will go. What is your errand, that I may do it?”
So Indra, leaning from his chariot, said this: “The Gods stand before
you, Prince of Nishada. I am Indra, the King of the Clouds, and he
beside me is Agni, the Lord of Fire, and here, Varuna, the King of
Waters, and he behind me is Yama, the Lord of Death. Go now to Damayanti
the Princess, and say this to her: ‘The Protectors of the World, the
Four Great Gods, desiring your beauty, are come to the swayamvara. Make
choice then to which of these Great Ones your heart inclines; for that
dignity whom you shall choose is yours, O maiden of excelling fortune.’”
But Nala, joining his hands in prayer, said to Indra: “O Mighty, how can
I do this? O Mightinesses, anything but this! I, too, have journeyed to
Vidarbha, desiring the maid. How should I entreat for another, even for
a god? Being divine, have pity.”
But these divinities replied: “Have you not said, ‘I go’? Is it possible
that a royal man should break his word? It is not possible. The great
forswear themselves in nothing. Depart.”
So he said: “Her gates are guarded; for she is a king’s daughter. A man
may have no secret speech with her.”
And Indra answered: “But that may you! Fear not. Depart.”
And as the divine voice ceased, the Prince stood in the inmost chamber
of Damayanti. He knew not how; yet he was there.
And his eyes swam and his heart fluttered within him; for she sat with
her maids like a goddess and his heart knew her. Beautiful was she and
yet more than beautiful; for all grace, all love shone about her as the
light surrounds the moon in her interlunar caves. So a mild radiance
filled the air about the Princess and moved as she moved, going with
her.
Now, when these ladies beheld a man standing in their presence, they
sprang up like frightened deer, each grasping the other for protection
and gathering about the Princess to shield her, so great was their fear.
Then, seeing the kindliness of his beauty and the nobility of his brows,
these lovely ones gathered courage and they saluted him with timidity,
murmuring: “Aho, his grace! Aho, his beauty! What is he? Who?”
But the Princess, her heart fluttering like a leaf in the wind, stood
higher than the rest and spoke thus: “Noble Prince—for by a faultless
body I judge you royal—how have you come thus suddenly like a God?
Surely this would anger my father. Have you no fear of his wrath?”
But there was love in her voice and with love the Prince answered: “O
Most Lovely, I am Nala of Nishada, and I am the herald of the gods. For
to your choosing come the Four, almighty, heaven-shining—Indra the King
of the Clouds, Agni of the Fire, Varuna of the Waters, and he whom to
name is fear, Yama, the Lord of Death. And these will that you choose
one among them to be your immortal lord, and it is by their power that I
stand before you. Who am I to be the messenger of the Great Ones? Now
judge what is well; for this is an honour to shake the soul of a woman.”
So Damayanti bowed her fair head in reverence, hearing the gods named,
and having done obeisance, she raised her head and spoke: “Yet, O
Prince, is my heart set on you and I am faithful. The white swan was my
messenger and to you he bore my love. It is for your sake only that the
kings are bidden to my swayamvara, but I have already chosen. Even now
the maidens make ready the garland that I would hang about your neck. O
Prince of Men, O Flame of Strength and Knightliness, what says your
heart? For me, I choose your arms or death. There is no other way.”
And he, sighing bitterly, said: “With the very Gods awaiting you, how,
Princess, should you choose a man? And what am I but dust beneath their
feet? But you, O lady, choosing one of these excelling Gods, shall
escape all death and mortality and reign shining beside him throughout
the ages; for immortal flowers do not wither, and death and time are
unknown to such as these. Sit therefore enthroned above us. Choose and,
choosing, be divine.”
But she replied in haste and weeping: “Before these mighty Gods I bow.
To them I address my prayers, but you I choose—you only will I take for
my husband. You only. What to me is immortal life if I have not you?”
And her body trembled like a bamboo in the wind, while he replied: “Here
being their messenger, I may not speak for myself. Duty and reverence
hold the door of my lips. Yet if the time come when in honour I may
speak, then will I utter what lies in my heart. May that time come!”
“May it come!” said the Princess and dashed the tears from her eyes, and
like a queen she stood and said: “In full presence of my father and of
the kings let these Divine Ones enter, and, O Prince, who are the light
of my sad eyes, enter you, too, and I, a free maiden, will choose
freely. And to you, what blame? For it is I who choose and the gods know
all.”
So he returned to the Gods and, sighing, told what had befallen, bidding
them to the swayamvara of Damayanti, the Consumer of Hearts. So the
Shining Ones knew that her heart was set upon Nala of Nishada.
Now, on an auspicious day and in the right quarter of the moon, the
swayamvara was held in a mighty court surrounded by golden pillars bound
with garlands, and with royal seats set for the suitors. And closing it
in was a great gatehouse with guards.
Through the gates passed the kings to their places, and what a sight was
there as these noblest of the earth approached! How should a woman
choose among them? Crowned were they with odorous blossoms pressed down
upon their dark locks. Lordly jewels swung in their ears. Some were
rough in majesty, great-thewed, and the muscles stood out upon them like
cords. Some were delicate in strength like bows of the archer Gods, but
splendid kings were all, proud and fierce of aspect, fit spouses for
such beauty; and in a ring they sat, their eyes glittering and fixed
upon the way that Damayanti should enter, desiring that loveliness as
the very crown jewel of their state. But none saw the Gods.
And into that ring of set faces entered the Princess, unveiled and
pacing like a deer, and on her right hand her brother Danta, and the
garland of choosing on her arm, and when she entered all held their
breath, so more than mortal fair she seemed, and they knew that the half
was not told them.
So, with her soul set on Nala of Nishada, the Princess Damayanti went by
the kings, and, as she passed each one, his face darkened as when a
cloud crosses the sun and the world is grey. So at last she stood before
Nala and raised her eyes under the cloud of her beautifully bent lashes,
and fear and pain shot through her tender heart like an arrow, for lo,
the Four Shining Ones had condescended to take the earthly shape of Nala
as they stood beside him, so that they might try the maid and she not
know her love. There were five Nalas, and which was her own she could in
no way tell, for each one bore his very face, his very form. So the Gods
walk disguised, and who shall know them?
Then, sore perplexed, trembling in her great fear and reverence, she
sought, meditating, to recall the signs by which the Gods may be
discerned when they assume flesh. But of these none could she see, and
the five remained immovable as she stood before them and in silence the
kings watched what would be.
So, seeing no help in herself or anywhere on earth, that lovely lady
joined her palms and, raising her lotus-eyes, spoke thus: “O Divine
Ones, I heard the swan and chose my lord, and by that sincerity which I
have kept in all faith and honour, I call upon your greatness, O Mighty,
who for a while have blinded my eyes, to show my King to me! Appear, O
Protectors of the World, in your proper shape, that I may do such
reverence as mortals owe to Gods; and reveal him, mortal, but mine own.”
Being thus called upon in the strength of a pure woman, straightway the
Gods, dropping all disguise, disclosed their beauty. And immediately she
knew them; for their sacred feet touched not the earth but hung a span’s
length above it in the air, and their forms of crystal essence cast no
shadow. No sweat was beaded on their pure, eternal brows, and their
crowns of flowers in radiance cast back the sun’s beams nor drooped in
the heat. And neither wavered their shining eyes, fixed upon the
Princess, nor did the lids flicker, and in motionless majesty the
Immortal Gods stood there.
And beside them stood Nala, very weary and foredone with grief and pain.
His shadow lay black before him in the fierce sun, the sweat hung thick
upon his brows where the faded flowers drooped. Beautiful, wearied and
mortal, he stood beside the Immortal Gods.
So Damayanti looked upon those unchanging faces, in which was neither
sorrow nor anger, for they sit above the thunder; and they regarded her,
as it were unseeing, yet seeing all things, as do the holy images, and
in their divine hearts was no love at all. So she passed them by and
hung the perfumed garland round the bowed neck of her love, and in her
voice of music took him to be her lord.
And he said this: “O Lovely—O Faithful, since before Gods and men you
have chosen me, unworthy, true man will I be and faith and honour will I
keep while the breath is in my nostrils.”
So together they worshipped the Four, while all the kings and princes
cried aloud: “_Sadhu!_”—“Well done!” For there was none but rejoiced in
the beauty and faithfulness of these two.
So the Immortal Gods, standing in that presence, gave lordly gifts to
the pair. And Indra, the Cloudy God, gave this: that, when Nala should
perform sacrifice, he should with mortal eyes see the visible God and
behold him unafraid. And Agni, the Lord of Fire, gave this: that at all
times he would come at the call of Nala. And this is a great gift. And
Varuna, the King of Waters, gave this: that at the word of Nala of
Nishada the waters should rise and fall, obedient. But Yama, the Lord of
Death, gave two gifts; and of these the first was to walk steadfastly in
the ways of righteousness; and the second (let it not be despised!) was
to be skilful in preparing food. And in after times by strange chance
did this prove a great and goodly gift.
Thus was the marrying of Nala, King of Men, with Damayanti, Pearl of
Women.
Reverence to that Lord of Elephant Trunk to whom obstacles are as
nothing, and to those Four Shining Ones who showed compassion, their
ears being open to the prayer of purity.