Then the King said to Rasakósha: My friend, though the Princess has
again baffled you, and now six days are lost, yet I forgive you, for
the sake of the opportunity that your story gave my beloved of
exhibiting her wonderful intelligence. Oh! she has the soul of
Brihaspati in a woman's body. But my heart was racked by the regret in
her glance as she went away. And even with the portrait, I cannot
understand how I shall endure the period of separation. So he passed
the night in a state of restlessness, gazing at the portrait. And when
the sun rose, he rose also, and managed to get through the day, aided
by Rasakósha and the garden. Then when the sun set, they went again to
the hall of audience. And there they saw the Princess, clad in a robe
of azure and a bodice studded with crystal, and her crown and other
ornaments, sitting on her throne. And she sighed when she saw the
King, who sank upon a couch, speechless and fascinated, under the spell
of her beauty. Then Rasakósha came forward and stood before her, and
began again:
Lady[1], there was in former times a rogue, who had lost his all by
gambling with other rogues like himself, and who became an ascetic in
order to make a living by seeming piety. So he smeared his body with
ashes, and matted his hair into a knot, and put on a yellow rag and a
necklace of bones and a rosary, and went about hither and thither in
the world practising hypocritical asceticism when anybody was looking
at him, and begging. And one day, when he was sitting by the roadside,
the daughter of the king of that country passed by on her elephant.
And the wind blew aside the curtain of her _howdah_, and revealed her
to his eyes. And she struck him with the fever of fierce desire, so
that he uttered an ejaculation, and exclaimed: The fruit of my birth
certainly lies in obtaining possession of that beauty. But how is it
to be done?
So after meditating profoundly on the matter for a long time, he went
to a large tree just outside the king's palace, and hung himself up
like a bat[2], head downwards, from a branch. And thus he remained for
hours, muttering to himself. And this he continued to do every day, so
that the people came in crowds to see him. And news was carried to the
king that a great ascetic had come, and was practising penance in a
tree in front of his palace. So the king, much pleased, and thinking
himself fortunate, went to examine him, and the ascetic blessed him,
upside down, from the tree. Then the king was delighted, and sent food
and other offerings to the rogue.
Then one day it happened that the king's daughter, whose name was
Hasamúrtí[3], came by on her elephant, and saw the ascetic hanging like
a bat in the tree. And the sight tickled her and she laughed aloud;
and the ascetic heard her. So getting down from the tree, he went to
the king. And having effected an entrance, he said to him: King, your
daughter laughs at me, thus disturbing my devotions in the tree. Now
in former times many great sages, irritated by scorn or neglect, have
cursed the offenders, and inflicted terrible punishments on them. But
I am long-suffering, and will spare your daughter. Nevertheless, I am
about to curse your kingdom, so that no rain will fall on it for twenty
years. Now the king was a great simpleton. And when he heard this, he
was dreadfully alarmed: and he prayed so earnestly to the ascetic that
the rogue, pretending to be mollified, said: Well, for this time I will
abandon my design of cursing your kingdom. Only beware that it does
not occur again. Then he went back to his tree, and the king scolded
his daughter in private.
But the very next day the king's daughter passed again by the tree.
And seeing the ascetic hanging, in spite of her promises to her father,
her former hilarity returned upon her mind, and she laughed louder and
longer than before. So the ascetic went again to the king, who, pale
with terror, managed with difficulty and the most abject apologies once
more to appease his wrath. And he returned to his tree, and the king
again scolded his daughter, who promised never to offend again.
Then for two days Hasamúrtí went and came by another road, to avoid the
opportunity of giving offence to the ascetic. But on the third day she
forgot, and once more came past the tree, and saw him hanging. And
suddenly, as if inspired by Shiwa himself[4], she burst into a peal of
laughter, and she continued to laugh as if she was mad, even after she
had entered the palace.
So the ascetic got down from the tree, and went to the king. And he
said: O king, certainly your kingdom is doomed, and your daughter is
possessed by an evil spirit. For she has laughed at me again, even
worse than before, and cancelled years of my reward, by disturbing my
meditations. Now therefore, prepare to suffer the extremities of my
vengeance. Then the king, at his wits' end, said: Holy man, is there
absolutely no remedy? The ascetic replied: Am I ever to be disturbed
in my devotions? There is none; your daughter is clearly incurable.
But the king said: Can nothing be done to cure her? Do you know no
potent spell to conquer her malady? Then that rogue, inwardly
delighted, said: Well, I will do this, out of mercy I will see your
daughter, and perform incantations over her. And if I can drive out
the evil spirit of unseasonable laughter that possesses her, it is
well: but if not, nothing remains but the curse.
So the king carried him to his daughter's apartments, and said to his
daughter: My daughter, your laughter incessantly disturbs this holy man
at his devotions. And now he has come, out of mercy, to exorcise the
laughing demon that possesses you: otherwise, my kingdom, cursed by
him, will perish for want of rain. Then the ascetic said: Let all
others depart, and leave me in private with the king's daughter. But
the king said aside to the ascetic: Sir, my daughter must not be left
alone with any man. Then the ascetic replied: Fear nothing on my
account: I am not a man: it is many years since I sacrificed my
manhood[5] to the Dweller in the Windhya hills.
But Hasamúrtí heard him, and she said to herself: My father is a fool,
and doubtless this man has some design against my honour. He shall
find I can do more than laugh. So she said to her father: Have no
fear: this is a holy man. But she secretly stationed all her maids in
readiness in the next room. Then when the ascetic found himself alone
with the king's daughter, his evil passion rose to such a pitch that he
could scarcely contain himself. Nevertheless he drew a circle, with
trembling hands, and placing the king's daughter in it, he muttered
awhile, and then said: My daughter, you must have the quarters of
heaven for your only garments[6], or the spell will not work. Remove
your clothes. But Hasamúrtí said: Reverend Sir, it is impossible.
Then he caught hold of her. But she clapped her hands, and her maids
ran in and seized him. And she said: Examine this ascetic, and see
whether he is a man or not. So they did so, and said, laughing: Madam,
he is very much a man indeed. Then Hasamúrtí said: Take this knife,
and deprive him of his manhood. And they did as she commanded them.
Then Hasamúrtí said to him: Now go, for the incantation is finished.
And if you please, complain to the king, my father: I have the evidence
to convict you. So the maids released that ascetic. But he, as soon
as they let him go, began to laugh, and continued to laugh till he
reached the king. And he said: O king, do not hinder me: we have
successfully performed the incantation, and see, I have caught the
laughing demon, and am carrying him away. And he went away laughing,
with death in his heart.
So now tell me, Princess, why did that ascetic laugh? And Rasakósha
ceased. Then the Princess frowning slightly, replied: He laughed, in
the cowardice of his soul, with exultation at having escaped from those
maids as from the mouth of death: counting the failure of his scheme
and the loss of his manhood as nothing, in comparison with the
preservation of bare life. For cowards count the loss of life as the
greatest of evils: but the great-souled esteem it as the least, and
would forfeit it a thousand times, rather than fail in the object at
which they aim.
And when she had said this, the Princess looked significantly at the
King, and rose up and went out, and the King's heart went with her.
But the King and Rasakósha returned to their own apartments.
[1] Should any reader be of opinion that I ought to have omitted or
emasculated this story, I can only reply that I wish all Bowdlerisers
no worse fate than that of the ascetic in the tent.
[2] History repeats itself. M. Rousselet, who travelled in India in
the sixties, mentions, in his _L'Inde des Rajas_, a case that he saw in
Rájputána of a holy man who suspended himself in a tree 'like a ham.'
[3] _i.e._ 'laughter incarnate.'
[4] _Attahasa_, 'loud laughter,' is a name of Shiwa. Kálidás (in his
_Cloud_, v. 62) compares the snowy peaks of Mount Kailas to the
laughter of Shiwa 'rolled into a ball.' (Note, that laughter is always
_white_ in Sanskrit poetry.)
[5] _Spado factus sum_. The 'dweller' is Párwatí, or Durgá, Shiwa's
other half, in the strict sense of the term.
[6] _Digambara, i.e._ you must be stark-naked, or in a state of nature.