SUŚROṆĪ. [130]

A merchant who had married in Vārāṇasī determined to go to sea again

with merchandise. His wife refused to stay behind. While they were on

the voyage their ship was upset by a sea-monster. The husband perished,

but the wife escaped on a plank, and was driven by the wind to

Kaśerudvīpa, where dwelt the bird-king Suparṇa, who made her his wife.

She bare him first a very beautiful boy, and then a young bird Suparṇa,

who, after his father’s death, was installed king of the birds. His

mother insisted on his installing his elder brother as king in

Vārāṇasī, so he carried off King Brahmadatta in his claws, and flung

him into the sea; then he set on the throne in his place his own

brother, arrayed in all splendour, and he warned the ministers that he

would treat exactly like Brahmadatta any one of them who did the least

thing wrong. The name of Brahmadatta was given likewise to the new

king, who begged his brother to assist him from time to time.

After some time it happened that the king’s elephant, which was

parturient, was unable to bring forth its young. The ministers advised

that it should be led into the zenana, in order that it might be

relieved of its pains by the asseverations of the king’s wives. But

although the elephant was introduced there, and the wives pronounced

their asseverations, the pains did not come to an end, and the elephant

uttered the most fearful cries. They were heard by a woman who was

looking after some oxen near the palace, and who declared that by means

of her asseveration the pains would be brought to an end. When the

ministers had told this to the king, and he had ordered her to be

brought into the zenana, she said, “If it is true that one husband is

sufficient for me, and I have not two husbands, then as the result of

this truth let the elephant be eased of its pains.” Immediately after

this utterance the elephant brought forth. When the king was informed

of this, he declared that all his wives were of vicious habits, and

ordered the herdswoman to be summoned. When she had replied in the

affirmative to his question as to whether the elephant had been

relieved of its pains in consequence of her asseveration, the king came

to the conclusion that she must have a daughter like unto herself. This

daughter, named Suśroṇī, he took as his wife; but fearing that, if he

left her in the company of the other women of his court, she would

undoubtedly contract bad habits, he begged the bird-king Suparṇa to

convey her every day to Kaśerudvīpa, but to bring her back to him every

night. Suparṇa agreed to this, and sent him every day wreaths of the

odorous flower Timira, which grew at Kaśerudvīpa.

A Brahman youth who had gone into the forest for fuel was seen there by

a Kinnarī, who hid him away in a rocky grot, where she used to enjoy

his company. Whenever he left the cave, in order to fetch flowers and

fruits, she closed its entrance with a great block of stone, which the

Brahman youth was unable to remove. She bore him a son, who was called

Āśuga (Swiftfoot), because he ran everywhere so swiftly.

As the father was always praising the merits of Vārāṇasī in his son’s

presence, the boy, when he learnt that it was his father’s birthplace,

asked him why he did not make his way thither. The father pointed out

that there was a difficulty, the entrance of the cave being closed by

the block of stone. Thereupon the son began to lift masses of stone, a

larger one every day, until he had rendered himself capable of moving

the block of stone. In order that his mother, who was in the habit of

fetching fruits and flowers from the immediate neighbourhood, should be

prevented from coming home too soon, he one day spat out all the fruits

as soon as he had put them into his mouth, and declared that she must

look for better fruits further away from the cave, for that those which

had been plucked in its neighbourhood were uneatable. Next day the

mother betook herself to a great distance, and Āśuga called upon his

father to escape, for he had sent his mother far away. Then he pushed

the rock on one side, and they two reached Vārāṇasī.

When the mother returned and found the cave empty she sat down and

wept. Her friends consoled her, saying that, as her son was a man, he

would not be in distress among men. The mother declared that, to

prevent his being in distress while parted from her, she would give him

something by means of which he could prolong his life. So she besought

her friends, so soon as they should set eyes on him, to give him a

lute, in order that he might support himself by means of it. Only he

must be careful not to touch its uppermost string; for doing so would

entail on him a great misfortune.

The Brahman had sent his son Āśuga to a Brahman as his pupil. One day

when Āśuga had gone into the forest with the other young Brahmans to

collect firewood he wandered far away, and was seen by his mother’s

friends, who asked him what news he had to give. When he had complained

of hunger and thirst they asked him if he would not go to his mother,

for she was weeping and wailing. He said that he could not hold

converse with his mother, for she was so hot-tempered. Thereupon they

gave him the lute, by means of which he would be able to keep himself

alive. But they told him that, in order that no misfortune might arise,

he was not to touch its uppermost string. Āśuga took the lute to where

the Brahman youths were. When he had played and sung to them there,

always without touching the top string, they asked him why he did not

touch it. When he had told them the reason, and in spite of that they

touched the top string, they all began to skip and dance. As this

dancing made them late, it was only in the evening that they returned

to their Paṇḍit, who asked them why they had remained out so long. When

the youths had told the whole story the Paṇḍit asked the young Āśuga if

he really understood how to play the lute and to sing. When he said

that he did, he was thereupon obliged to play. And when at the

instigation of the Paṇḍit he touched the top string, the Brahman and

his wife began to skip and dance; moreover, the whole house skipped

with a crash, and all the pots and crockery were broken to pieces. The

Brahman in a rage seized the youth Āśuga by the neck and turned him out

of the house.

After that Āśuga got his living by lute-playing and singing. Five

hundred merchants who were putting to sea took him on board with them

as a musician. When he was playing on board ship one day he touched the

top string at the request of the merchants, whereupon the ship began to

bound in the air and capsized, whereby the whole of the merchants lost

their lives. But Āśuga, who got hold of a plank, was driven by a storm

to Kaśerudvīpa.

There he took up his abode in a park where there were no other men. And

there, having seen Suśroṇī, he held dalliance with her. In this fashion

she was at the disposal of Āśuga by day and of King Brahmadatta by

night. Now Āśuga besought her to take him with her to Vārāṇasī. She

acceded to his request, asked him his name, and told him her own. Every

day after that she carried with her, when mounted upon Suparṇa, more

and more stones, until she had brought their weight to that of a man’s

body. Then she and Āśuga got on Suparṇa’s back together. She told Āśuga

to shut his eyes, saying that if he opened them a misfortune would

occur. But when they drew near to Vārāṇasī, and Āśuga heard the voices

and clamour of many people, he thought that he had reached the

journey’s end. So he opened his eyes; whereupon he immediately became

blind. Suśroṇī left him in the park, and betook herself to King

Brahmadatta’s zenana.

Now when the king had come, and the trees were putting forth their

leaves in the thick forest, and the voices were heard of geese, cranes,

peacocks, parrots, mainas, kokilas, and pheasants, King Brahmadatta,

surrounded by his women, betook himself with Suśroṇī to the park. There

the Brahman youth Āśuga, scenting the odour of the Timira flower, was

chanting a song after this fashion—

“Set in movement by the wind the odour of the Timira is perceptible.

This is Kaśerudvīpa, where Suśroṇī dwells.”

Hearing these words the king ordered his women to find out who had sung

them. After Āśuga had been discovered and brought before the king, and

had been obliged to repeat his song, the king asked him how far off

Kaśerudvīpa was. He replied in a śloka—

“The waters of the ocean stretch well nigh a hundred yojanas from here

to where lies Kaśerudvīpa, wherein Suśroṇī dwells.”

Tibetan Tales, Derived from Indian Sources · 第 29 / 121 题