Conclusion of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 396-409
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 409
Book XIII.
Chapter CIV.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 411-423
Story of the two Bráhman friends 412-423
Book XIV.
Chapter CV.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 425-430
Story of Sávitrí and Angiras 426-427
Chapter CVI.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 430-441
Story of the child that died of a broken heart 435-436
Chapter CVII.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 441-448
Story of Ráma 442
Chapter CVIII.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 448-460
Story of Nágasvámin and the witches 449-452
Story of Marubhúti and the mermaids and the gold-producing
grains 452-454
Book XV.
Chapter CIX.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 461-469
History of the cave of Trisírsha 464-465
Chapter CX.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 469-478
Naraváhanadatta crowned emperor of the Vidyádharas 473-474
Book XVI.
Chapter CXI.
Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 479-483
Story of the devoted couple Súrasena and Sushená 480-481
Death of Chandamahásena and Angáravatí 482
Death of Udayana king of Vatsa 483
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son
of Udayana 484-485
Chapter CXII.
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son
of Udayana 485-497
Story of king Chandamahásena and the Asura's daughter 486-488
Story of prince Avantivardhana and the daughter of
the Mátanga 488-496
Story of the young Chandála who married the daughter of
king Prasenajit 490-491
Story of the young fisherman who married a princess 491-493
Story of the Merchant's daughter who fell in love with
a thief 493-495
Chapter CXIII.
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son
of Udayana 497-503
Story of Tárávaloka 498-503
Book XVII.
Chapter CXIV.
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son
of Udayana 505-513
Story of king Brahmadatta and the swans 506-513
How Párvatí condemned her five attendants to be reborn
on earth 508-510
Story of the metamorphoses of Pingesvara and Guhesvara 510-513
Chapter CXV.
Continuation of The story of Brahmadatta and the swans 513-514
Story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 514-522
Chapter CXVI.
Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 522-528
Chapter CXVII.
Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 528-538
Chapter CXVIII.
Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 538-549
Chapter CXIX.
Conclusion of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 549-561
Conclusion of the story of Brahmadatta and the swans 561
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 561
Book XVIII.
Chapter CXX.
Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son
of Udayana 563
Story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 563-570
Chapter CXXI.
Continuation of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 571-586
Story of Madanamanjarí 571-583
Story of the gambler Dágineya 572-574
Story of Thinthákarála the bold gambler 574-582
Story of the gambler who cheated Yama 581
Story of Ghanta and Nighanta and the two maidens 583
Story of the golden deer 584
Chapter CXXII.
Continuation of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 586-593
Story of Malayavatí the man-hating maiden 587-593
Chapter CXXIII.
Continuation of the Story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 593
Story of Kalingasená's marriage 593-611
How Devasena obtained the magic ointment 594
Story of the grateful monkey 596-597
Story of the two princesses 598-599
Story of Dhanadatta 600-601
Story of Kesata and Kandarpa 601-610
Story of Kusumáyudha and Kamalalochaná 606-607
Chapter CXXIV.
Conclusion of the story of Kalingasená's marriage 611-614
Story of Chandrasvámin 611-612
Conclusion of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 614-624
Story of Devasvámin 616-617
Story of Agnisarman 617-618
Story of Múladeva 618-624
Conclusion of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 624
Conclusion of the Kathá Sarit Ságara 625
TRANSLATION OF THE KATHÁ SARIT SÁGARA OR OCEAN OF THE STREAMS OF STORY.
BOOK I.
CALLED KATHÁPÍTHA
CHAPTER I.
May the dark neck of Siva, which the god of love has, so to speak,
surrounded with nooses in the form of the alluring looks of Párvatí
reclining on his bosom, assign to you prosperity.
May that victor of obstacles, [1] who after sweeping away the stars
with his trunk in the delirious joy of the evening dance, seems to
create others with the spray issuing from his hissing [2] mouth,
protect you.
After worshipping the goddess of Speech, the lamp that illuminates
countless objects, [3] I compose this collection which contains the
pith of the Vríhat-Kathá.
The first book in my collection is called Kathápítha, then comes
Kathámukha, then the third book named Lávánaka, then follows
Naraváhanadattajanana, and then the book called Chaturdáriká, and then
Madanamanchuká, then the seventh book named Ratnaprabhá, and then the
eighth book named Súryaprabhá, then Alankáravatí, then Saktiyasas,
and then the eleventh book called Velá, then comes Sasánkavatí,
and then Madirávatí, then comes the book called Pancha followed by
Mahábhisheka, and then Suratamanjarí, then Padmávatí, and then will
follow the eighteenth book Vishamasíla.
This book is precisely on the model of that from which it is taken,
there is not even the slightest deviation, only such language is
selected as tends to abridge the prolixity of the work; the observance
of propriety and natural connexion, and the joining together of the
portions of the poem so as not to interfere with the spirit of the
stories, are as far as possible kept in view: I have not made this
attempt through desire of a reputation for ingenuity, but in order
to facilitate the recollection of a multitude of various tales.
There is a mountain celebrated under the name of Himavat, haunted
by Kinnaras, Gandharvas, and Vidyádharas, a very monarch of mighty
hills, whose glory has attained such an eminence among mountains that
Bhavání the mother of the three worlds deigned to become his daughter;
the northernmost summit thereof is a great peak named Kailása,
which towers many thousand yojanas in the air, [4] and as it were,
laughs forth with its snowy gleams this boast--"Mount Mandara [5] did
not become white as mortar even when the ocean was churned with it,
but I have become such without an effort." There dwells Mahesvara
the beloved of Párvatí, the chief of things animate and inanimate,
attended upon by Ganas, Vidyádharas and Siddhas. In the upstanding
yellow tufts of his matted hair, the new moon enjoys the delight of
touching the eastern mountain yellow in the evening twilight. When he
drove his trident into the heart of Andhaka, the king of the Asuras,
though he was only one, the dart which that monarch had infixed in the
heart of the three worlds was, strange to say, extracted. The image
of his toe-nails being reflected in the crest-jewels of the gods and
Asuras made them seem as if they had been presented with half moons
by his favour. [6] Once on a time that lord, the husband of Párvatí,
was gratified with praises by his wife, having gained confidence as
she sat in secret with him; the moon-crested one attentive to her
praise and delighted, placed her on his lap, and said, "What can I do
to please thee?" Then the daughter of the mountain spake--"My lord,
if thou art satisfied with me, then tell me some delightful story that
is quite new." And Siva said to her, "What can there be in the world,
my beloved, present, past, or future that thou dost not know?" Then
that goddess, beloved of Siva, importuned him eagerly because she
was proud in soul on account of his affection.
Then Siva wishing to flatter her, began by telling her a very short
story, referring to her own divine power.
"Once on a time [7] Brahmá and Náráyana roaming through the world
in order to behold me, came to the foot of Himavat. Then they beheld
there in front of them a great flame-linga; [8] in order to discover
the end of it, one of them went up, and the other down; and when
they could not find the end of it, they proceeded to propitiate
me by means of austerities: and I appeared to them and bade them
ask for some boon: hearing that Brahmá asked me to become his son;
on that account he has ceased to be worthy of worship, disgraced by
his overweening presumption.
"Then that god Náráyana craved a boon of me, saying--Oh revered one,
may I become devoted to thy service! Then he became incarnate, and
was born as mine in thy form; for thou art the same as Náráyana,
the power of me all-powerful.
"Moreover thou wast my wife in a former birth." When Siva had thus
spoken, Párvatí asked, "How can I have been thy wife in a former
birth?" Then Siva answered her. "Long ago to the Prajápati Daksha
were born many daughters, and amongst them thou, O goddess! He gave
thee in marriage to me, and the others to Dharma and the rest of the
gods. Once on a time he invited all his sons-in-law to a sacrifice. But
I alone was not included in the invitation; thereupon thou didst ask
him to tell thee why thy husband was not invited. Then he uttered a
speech which pierced thy ears like a poisoned needle; 'Thy husband
wears a necklace of skulls; how can he be invited to a sacrifice?'
"And then thou, my beloved, didst in anger abandon thy body,
exclaiming,--'This father of mine is a villain; what profit have I
then in this carcase sprung from him?'
"And thereupon in wrath I destroyed that sacrifice of Daksha. Then
thou wast born as the daughter of the mount of snow, as the moon's
digit springs from the sea. Then recall how I came to the Himálaya
in order to perform austerities; and thy father ordered thee to do
me service as his guest: and there the god of love who had been sent
by the gods in order that they might obtain from me a son to oppose
Táraka, was consumed, [9] when endeavouring to pierce me, having
obtained a favourable opportunity. Then I was purchased by thee,
[10] the enduring one, with severe austerities, and I accepted this
proposal of thine, my beloved, in order that I might add this merit
to my stock. [11] Thus it is clear that thou wast my wife in a former
birth. What else shall I tell thee?" Thus Siva spake, and when he had
ceased, the goddess transported with wrath, exclaimed,--"Thou art a
deceiver; thou wilt not tell me a pleasing tale even though I ask thee:
Do I not know that thou worshippest Sandhyá, and bearest Gangá on thy
head?" Hearing that, Siva proceeded to conciliate her and promised to
tell her a wonderful tale: then she dismissed her anger. She herself
gave the order that no one was to enter where they were; Nandin [12]
thereupon kept the door, and Siva began to speak.
"The gods are supremely blessed, men are ever miserable, the actions
of demigods are exceedingly charming, therefore I now proceed to
relate to thee the history of the Vidyádharas." While Siva was thus
speaking to his consort, there arrived a favourite dependant of Siva's,
Pushpadanta, best of Ganas, [13] and his entrance was forbidden by
Nandin who was guarding the door. Curious to know why even he had
been forbidden to enter at that time without any apparent reason,
Pushpadanta immediately entered, making use of his magic power attained
by devotion to prevent his being seen, and when he had thus entered,
he heard all the extraordinary and wonderful adventures of the seven
Vidyádharas being narrated by the trident-bearing god, and having heard
them he in turn went and narrated them to his wife Jayá; for who can
hide wealth or a secret from women? Jayá the doorkeeper being filled
with wonder went and recited it in the presence of Párvatí. How can
women be expected to restrain their speech? And then the daughter of
the mountain flew into a passion, and said to her husband, "Thou didst
not tell me any extraordinary tale, for Jayá knows it also." Then the
lord of Umá, perceiving the truth by profound meditation, thus spake:
"Pushpadanta employing the magic power of devotion entered in where
we were, and thus managed to hear it. He narrated it to Jayá; no one
else knows it, my beloved."
Having heard this, the goddess exceedingly enraged caused Pushpadanta
to be summoned, and cursed him, as he stood trembling before her,
saying, "Become a mortal thou disobedient servant." [14] She cursed
also the Gana Mályaván who presumed to intercede on his behalf. Then
the two fell at her feet together with Jayá and entreated her to say
when the curse would end, and the wife of Siva slowly uttered this
speech--"A Yaksha named Supratíka who has been made a Pisácha by the
curse of Kuvera is residing in the Vindhya forest under the name of
Kánabhúti. When thou shalt see him and, calling to mind thy origin,
tell him this tale, then, Pushpadanta, thou shalt be released from
this curse. And when Mályaván shall hear this tale from Kánabhúti,
then Kánabhúti shall be released, and thou, Mályaván, when thou
hast published it abroad, shalt be free also." Having thus spoken
the daughter of the mountain ceased, and immediately those Ganas
disappeared instantaneously like flashes of lightning. Then it came
to pass in the course of time that Gaurí full of pity asked Siva,
"My lord, where on the earth have those excellent Pramathas [15] whom
I cursed, been born?" And the moon-diademed god answered: "My beloved,
Pushpadanta has been born under the name of Vararuchi in that great
city which is called Kausámbí. [16] Moreover Mályaván also has been
born in the splendid city called Supratishthita under the name of
Gunádhya. This, O goddess, is what has befallen them." Having given
her this information with grief caused by recalling to mind the
degradation of the servants that had always been obedient to him,
that lord continued to dwell with his beloved in pleasure-arbours on
the slopes of mount Kailása, which were made of the branches of the
Kalpa tree. [17]
CHAPTER II.
Then Pushpadanta wandering on the earth in the form of a man,
was known by the name of Vararuchi and Kátyáyana. Having attained
perfection in the sciences, and having served Nanda as minister,
being wearied out he went once on a time to visit the shrine of
Durgá. [18] And that goddess, being pleased with his austerities,
ordered him in a dream to repair to the wilds of the Vindhya to
behold Kánabhúti. And as he wandered about there in a waterless
and savage wood, [19] full of tigers and apes, he beheld a lofty
Nyagrodha tree. [20] And near it he saw, surrounded by hundreds of
Pisáchas, that Pisácha Kánabhúti, in stature like a Sála tree. When
Kánabhúti had seen him and respectfully clasped his feet, Kátyáyana
sitting down immediately spake to him. "Thou art an observer of the
good custom; how hast thou come into this state?" Having heard this
Kánabhúti said to Kátyáyana, who had shewn affection towards him, "I
know not of myself, but listen to what I heard from Siva at Ujjayiní
in the place where corpses are burnt; I proceed to tell it thee." The
adorable god was asked by Durgá--"Whence, my lord, comes thy delight
in skulls and burning-places?" He thereupon gave this answer.
"Long ago when all things had been destroyed at the end of a Kalpa,
the universe became water: I then cleft my thigh and let fall a drop
of blood; that drop falling into the water turned into an egg, from
that sprang the Supreme Soul, [21] the Disposer; from him proceeded
Nature, [22] created by me for the purpose of further creation, and
they created the other lords of created beings, [23] and those in turn
the created beings, for which reason, my beloved, the Supreme Soul is
called in the world the grandfather. Having thus created the world,
animate and inanimate, that Spirit became arrogant: [24] thereupon I
cut off his head: then through regret for what I had done, I undertook
a difficult vow. So thus it comes to pass that I carry skulls in my
hand, and love the places where corpses are burned. Moreover this world
resembling a skull, rests in my hand; for the two skull-shaped halves
of the egg before mentioned are called heaven and earth." When Siva
had thus spoken, I, being full of curiosity, determined to listen;
and Párvatí again said to her husband, "After how long a time will
that Pushpadanta return to us?" Hearing that, Mahesvara spoke to the
goddess, pointing me out to her; "That Pisácha whom thou beholdest
there, was once a Yaksha, a servant of Kuvera, the god of wealth,
and he had for a friend a Rákshasa named Sthúlasiras; and the lord of
wealth perceiving that he associated with that evil one, banished him
to the wilds of the Vindhya mountains. But his brother Dírghajangha
fell at the feet of the god, and humbly asked when the curse would
end. Then the god of wealth said--"After thy brother has heard the
great tale from Pushpadanta, who has been born into this world in
consequence of a curse, and after he has in turn told it to Mályaván,
who owing to a curse has become a human being, he together with those
two Ganas shall be released from the effects of the curse." Such were
the terms on which the god of wealth then ordained that Mályaván
should obtain remission from his curse here below, and thou didst
fix the same in the case of Pushpadanta; recall it to mind, my
beloved." When I heard that speech of Siva, I came here overjoyed,
knowing that the calamity of my curse would be terminated by the
arrival of Pushpadanta. When Kánabhúti ceased after telling this story,
that moment Vararuchi remembered his origin, and exclaimed like one
aroused from sleep, "I am that very Pushpadanta, hear that tale from
me." Thereupon Kátyáyana related to him the seven great tales in seven
hundred thousand verses, and then Kánabhúti said to him--"My lord,
thou art an incarnation of Siva, who else knows this story? Through thy
favour that curse has almost left my body. Therefore tell me thy own
history from thy birth, thou mighty one, sanctify me yet further, if
the narrative may be revealed to such a one as I am." Then Vararuchi,
to gratify Kánabhúti, who remained prostrate before him, told all
his history from his birth at full length, in the following words:
Story of Vararuchi, his teacher Varsha, and his fellow-pupils Vyádi
and Indradatta.
In the city of Kausámbí there lived a Bráhman called Somadatta, who
also had the title of Agnisikha, and his wife was called Vasudattá. She
was the daughter of a hermit, and was born into the world in this
position in consequence of a curse; and I was born by her to this
excellent Bráhman, also in consequence of a curse. Now while I was
still quite a child my father died, but my mother continued to support
me, as I grew up, by severe drudgery; then one day two Bráhmans came
to our house to stop a night, exceedingly dusty with a long journey;
and while they were staying in our house there arose the noise of
a tabor, thereupon my mother said to me, sobbing, as she called to
mind her husband--"there, my son, is your father's friend Bhavananda,
giving a dramatic entertainment." I answered, "I will go and see it,
and will exhibit the whole of it to you, with a recitation of all
the speeches." On hearing that speech of mine, those Bráhmans were
astonished, but my mother said to them--"Come, my children, there is
no doubt about the truth of what he says; this boy will remember by
heart everything that he has heard once." [25] Then they, in order
to test me, recited to me a Prátisákhya [26]; immediately I repeated
the whole in their presence, then I went with the two Bráhmans and
saw that play, and when I came home, I went through the whole of it
in front of my mother: then one of the Bráhmans, named Vyádi, having
ascertained that I was able to recollect a thing on hearing it once,
told with submissive reverence this tale to my mother.
Mother, in the city of Vetasa there were two Bráhman brothers,
Deva-Swámin and Karambaka, who loved one another very dearly;
this Indradatta here is the son of one of them, and I am the son
of the other, and my name is Vyádi. It came to pass that my father
died. Owing to grief for his loss, the father of Indradatta went
on the long journey, [27] and then the hearts of our two mothers
broke with grief; thereupon being orphans though we had wealth,
[28] and, desiring to acquire learning, we went to the southern
region to supplicate the lord Kártikeya. And while we were engaged
in austerities there, the god gave us the following revelation in
a dream. "There is a city called Pátaliputra, the capital of king
Nanda, and in it there is a Bráhman, named Varsha, from him ye
shall learn all knowledge, therefore go there." Then we went to
that city, and when we made enquiries there, people said to us:
"There is a blockhead of a Bráhman in this town, of the name of
Varsha." Immediately we went on with minds in a state of suspense,
and saw the house of Varsha in a miserable condition, made a very
ant-hill by mice, dilapidated by the cracking of the walls, untidy,
[29] deprived of eaves, looking like the very birth-place of misery.
Then, seeing Varsha plunged in meditation within the house, we
approached his wife, who shewed us all proper hospitality; her body
was emaciated and begrimed, her dress tattered and dirty; she looked
like the incarnation of poverty, attracted thither by admiration
for the Bráhman's virtues. Bending humbly before her, we then told
her our circumstances, and the report of her husband's imbecility,
which we heard in the city. She exclaimed--"My children, I am not
ashamed to tell you the truth; listen! I will relate the whole story,"
and then she, chaste lady, proceeded to tell us the tale which follows:
There lived in this city an excellent Bráhman, named Sankara Svámin,
and he had two sons, my husband Varsha, and Upavarsha; my husband
was stupid and poor, and his younger brother was just the opposite:
and Upavarsha appointed his own wife to manage his elder brother's
house. [30] Then in the course of time, the rainy season came on,
and at this time the women are in the habit of making a cake of
flour mixed with molasses, of an unbecoming and disgusting shape,
[31] and giving it to any Bráhman who is thought to be a blockhead,
and if they act thus, this cake is said to remove their discomfort
caused by bathing in the cold season, and their exhaustion [32] caused
by bathing in the hot weather; but when it is given, Bráhmans refuse
to receive it, on the ground that the custom is a disgusting one. This
cake was presented by my sister-in-law to my husband, together with
a sacrificial fee; he received it, and brought it home with him, and
got a severe scolding from me; then he began to be inwardly consumed
with grief at his own stupidity, and went to worship the sole of the
foot of the god Kártikeya: the god, pleased with his austerities,
bestowed on him the knowledge of all the sciences; and gave him
this order--"When thou findest a Bráhman who can recollect what
he has heard only once, then thou mayest reveal these"--thereupon
my husband returned home delighted, and when he had reached home,
told the whole story to me. From that time forth, he has remained
continually muttering prayers and meditating: so find you some one who
can remember anything after hearing it once, and bring him here: if you
do that, you will both of you undoubtedly obtain all that you desire.
Having heard this from the wife of Varsha, and having immediately given
her a hundred gold pieces to relieve her poverty, we went out of that
city; then we wandered through the earth, and could not find anywhere
a person who could remember what he had only heard once: at last we
arrived tired out at your house to-day, and have found here this boy,
your son, who can recollect anything after once hearing it: therefore
give him us and let us go forth to acquire the commodity knowledge.
Having heard this speech of Vyádi, my mother said with respect,
"All this tallies completely; I repose confidence in your tale:
for long ago at the birth of this my only son, a distinct spiritual
[33] voice was heard from heaven. "A boy has been born who shall be
able to remember what he has heard once; he shall acquire knowledge
from Varsha, and shall make the science of grammar famous in the
world, and he shall be called Vararuchi by name, because whatever
is excellent, [34] shall please him." Having uttered this, the
voice ceased. Consequently, ever since this boy has grown big, I
have been thinking, day and night, where that teacher Varsha can be,
and to-day I have been exceedingly gratified at hearing it from your
mouth. Therefore take him with you: what harm can there be in it, he
is your brother?" When they heard this speech of my mother's, those
two, Vyádi and Indradatta, overflowing with joy, thought that night
but a moment in length. Then Vyádi quickly gave his own wealth to my
mother to provide a feast, and desiring that I should be qualified to
read the Vedas, invested me with the Bráhmanical thread. Then Vyádi
and Indradatta took me, who managed by my own fortitude to control
the excessive grief I felt at parting, while my mother in taking
leave of me could with difficulty suppress her tears, and considering
that the favour of Kártikeya towards them had now put forth blossom,
set out rapidly from that city; then in course of time we arrived at
the house of the teacher Varsha: he too considered that I was the
favour of Kártikeya arrived in bodily form. The next day he placed
us in front of him, and sitting down in a consecrated spot, he began
to recite the syllable Om with heavenly voice. Immediately the Vedas
with the six supplementary sciences rushed into his mind, and then he
began to teach them to us; then I retained what the teacher told us
after hearing it once, Vyádi after hearing it twice, and Indradatta
after hearing it three times: then the Bráhmans of the city hearing
of a sudden that divine sound, came at once from all quarters with
wonder stirring in their breasts to see what this new thing might be;
and with their reverend mouths loud in his praises honoured Varsha with
low bows. Then beholding that wonderful miracle, not only Upavarsha,
but all the citizens of Pátaliputra [35] kept high festival. Moreover
the king Nanda of exalted fortune, seeing the power of the boon of
the son of Siva, was delighted, and immediately filled the house of
Varsha with wealth, shewing him every mark of respect. [36]
CHAPTER III.
Having thus spoken while Kánabhúti was listening with intent mind,
Vararuchi went on to tell his tale in the wood.
It came to pass in the course of time, that one day, when the reading
of the Vedas was finished, the teacher Varsha, who had performed his
daily ceremonies, was asked by us, "How comes it that such a city as
this has become the home of Sarasvatí and Lakshmí, [37] tell us that,
O teacher." Hearing this, he bade us listen, for that he was about
to tell the history of the city.
Story of the founding of the city of Pátaliputra.
There is a sanctifying place of pilgrimage, named Kanakhala, at the
point where the Ganges issues from the hills, [38] where the sacred
stream was brought down from the table-land of mount Usínara, by
Kánchanapáta the elephant of the gods, having cleft it asunder. [39]
In that place lived a certain Bráhman from the Deccan, performing
austerities in the company of his wife, and to him were born there
three sons. In the course of time he and his wife went to heaven,
and those sons of his went to a place named Rájagriha, for the sake
of acquiring learning. And having studied the sciences there, the
three, grieved at their unprotected condition, went to the Deccan in
order to visit the shrine of the god Kártikeya. Then they reached a
city named Chinchiní on the shore of the sea, and dwelt in the house
of a Bráhman named Bhojika, and he gave them his three daughters in
marriage, and bestowed on them all his wealth, and having no other
children, went to the Ganges to perform austerities. And while they
were living there in the house of their father-in-law, a terrible
famine arose produced by drought, thereupon the three Bráhmans fled,
abandoning their virtuous wives, (since no care for their families
touches the hearts of cruel men,) then the middle one of the three
sisters was found to be pregnant; and those ladies repaired to the
house of Yajnadatta a friend of their father's: there they remained
in a miserable condition, thinking each on her own husband, (for even
in calamity women of good family do not forget the duties of virtuous
wives). Now in course of time the middle one of the three sisters
gave birth to a son, and they all three vied with one another in love
towards him. So it happened once upon a time that, as Siva was roaming
through the air, the mother of Skanda [40] who was reposing on Siva's
breast, moved with compassion at seeing their love for their child,
said to her husband, "My lord, observe, these three women feel great
affection for this boy, and place hope in him, trusting that he may
some day support them; therefore bring it about that he may be able
to maintain them, even in his infancy." Having been thus entreated by
his beloved, Siva, the giver of boons, thus answered her: I adopt him
as my protégé, for in a previous birth he and his wife propitiated
me, therefore he has been born on the earth to reap the fruit of his
former austerities; and his former wife has been born again as Pátalí
the daughter of the king Mahendravarman, and she shall be his wife in
this birth also. Having said this, that mighty god told those three
virtuous women in a dream,--"This young son of yours shall be called
Putraka; and every day when he awakes from sleep, a hundred thousand
gold pieces shall be found under his pillow, [41] and at last he shall
become a king." Accordingly, when he woke up from sleep, those virtuous
daughters of Yajnadatta found the gold and rejoiced that their vows and
prayers had brought forth fruit. Then by means of that gold Putraka
having in a short time accumulated great treasure, became a king,
for good fortune is the result of austerities. [42] Once upon a time
Yajnadatta said in private to Putraka,--"King, your father and uncles
have gone away into the wide world on account of a famine, therefore
give continually to Bráhmans, in order that they may hear of it and
return: and now listen, I will tell you the story of Brahmadatta."
Story of king Brahmadatta. [43]
"There lived formerly in Benares a king named Brahmadatta. He saw a
pair of swans flying in the air at night. They shone with the lustre
of gleaming gold, and were begirt with hundreds of white swans,
and so looked like a sudden flash of lightning, surrounded by white
clouds. And his desire to behold them again kept increasing so mightily
that he took no pleasure in the delights of royalty. And then having
taken counsel with his ministers he caused a fair tank to be made
according to a design of his own, and gave to all living creatures
security from injury. In a short time he perceived that those two
swans had settled in that lake, and when they had become tame he
asked them the reason of their golden plumage. And then those swans
addressed the king with an articulate voice. 'In a former birth,
O king, we were born as crows; and when we were fighting for the
remains of the daily offering [44] in a holy empty temple of Siva, we
fell down and died within a sacred vessel belonging to that sanctuary,
and consequently we have been born as golden swans with a remembrance
of our former birth';--having heard this the king gazed on them to
his heart's content, and derived great pleasure from watching them.
"Therefore you will gain back your father and uncles by an unparalleled
gift." When Yajnadatta had given him this advice, Putraka did as he
recommended; when they heard the tidings of the distribution those
Bráhmans arrived: and when they were recognized they had great wealth
bestowed on them, and were reunited to their wives. Strange to say,
even after they have gone through calamities, wicked men having their
minds blinded by want of discernment, are unable to put off their
evil nature. After a time they hankered after royal power, and being
desirous of murdering Putraka they enticed him under pretext of a
pilgrimage to the temple of Durgá: and having stationed assassins in
the inner sanctuary of the temple, they said to him, "First go and
visit the goddess alone, step inside." Thereupon he entered boldly,
but when he saw those assassins preparing to slay him, he asked them
why they wished to kill him. They replied, "We were hired for gold to
do it by your father and uncles." Then the discreet Putraka said to
the assassins, whose senses were bewildered by the goddess, "I will
give you this priceless jewelled ornament of mine. Spare me, I will
not reveal your secret; I will go to a distant land." The assassins
said, "So be it," and taking the ornament they departed, and falsely
informed the father and uncles of Putraka that he was slain. Then those
Bráhmans returned and endeavoured to get possession of the throne,
but they were put to death by the ministers as traitors. How can the
ungrateful prosper?
In the meanwhile that king Putraka, faithful to his promise, entered
the impassable wilds of the Vindhya, disgusted with his relations:
as he wandered about he saw two heroes engaged heart and soul in
a wrestling-match, and he asked them who they were. They replied,
"We are the two sons of the Asura Maya, and his wealth belongs to
us, this vessel, and this stick, and these shoes; it is for these
that we are fighting, and whichever of us proves the mightier is to
take them." When he heard this speech of theirs, Putraka said with
a smile--"That is a fine inheritance for a man." Then they said--"By
putting on these shoes one gains the power of flying through the air;
whatever is written with this staff turns out true; and whatever food
a man wishes to have in the vessel is found there immediately." When
he heard this, Putraka said--"What is the use of fighting? Make this
agreement, that whoever proves the best man in running shall possess
this wealth." [45] Those simpletons said--"Agreed"--and set off to run,
while the prince put on the shoes and flew up into the air, taking with
him the staff and the vessel; then he went a great distance in a short
time and saw beneath him a beautiful city named Ákarshiká and descended
into it from the sky. He reflected with himself; "hetæræ are prone
to deceive, Bráhmans are like my father and uncles, and merchants are
greedy of wealth; in whose house shall I dwell?" Just at that moment he
reached a lonely dilapidated house, and saw a single old woman in it;
so he gratified that old woman with a present, and lived unobserved in
that broken down old house, waited upon respectfully by the old woman.
Once upon a time the old woman in an affectionate mood said to
Putraka--"I am grieved, my son, that you have not a wife meet
for you. But here there is a maiden named Pátalí, the daughter of
the king, and she is preserved like a jewel in the upper story of a
seraglio." While he was listening to this speech of hers with open ear,
the god of love found an unguarded point, and entered by that very path
into his heart. He made up his mind that he must see that damsel that
very day, and in the night flew up through the air to where she was,
by the help of his magic shoes. He then entered by a window, which
was as high above the ground as the peak of a mountain, and beheld
that Pátalí, asleep in a secret place in the seraglio, continually
bathed in the moonlight that seemed to cling to her limbs: as it
were the might of love in fleshly form reposing after the conquest of
this world. While he was thinking how he should awake her, suddenly
outside a watchman began to chant: "Young men obtain the fruit of
their birth, when they awake the sleeping fair one, embracing her as
she sweetly scolds, with her eyes languidly opening." On hearing this
encouraging prelude, he embraced that fair one with limbs trembling
with excitement, and then she awoke. When she beheld that prince,
there was a contest between shame and love in her eye, which was
alternately fixed on his face and averted. When they had conversed
together, and gone through the ceremony of the Gándharva marriage,
that couple found their love continually increasing, as the night
waned away. Then Putraka took leave of his sorrowing wife, and with
his mind dwelling only on her went in the last watch of the night to
the old woman's house. So every night the prince kept going backwards
and forwards, and at last the intrigue was discovered by the guards
of the seraglio, accordingly they revealed the matter to the lady's
father, and he appointed a woman to watch secretly in the seraglio
at night. She, finding the prince asleep, made a mark with red lac
upon his garment to facilitate his recognition. In the morning she
informed the king of what she had done, and he sent out spies in all
directions, and Putraka was discovered by the mark and dragged out from
the dilapidated house into the presence of the king. Seeing that the
king was enraged, he flew up into the air with the help of the shoes,
and entered the palace of Pátalí. He said to her,--"We are discovered,
therefore rise up, let us escape with the help of the shoes, and so
taking Pátalí in his arms he flew away from that place through the
air. [46] Then descending from heaven near the bank of the Ganges,
he refreshed his weary beloved with cakes provided by means of the
magic vessel. When Pátalí saw the power of Putraka she made a request
to him, in accordance with which he sketched out with the staff a
city furnished with a force of all four arms. [47] In that city he
established himself as king, and his great power having attained
full development, he subdued that father-in-law of his, and became
ruler of the sea-engirdled earth. This is that same divine city,
produced by magic, together with its citizens; hence it bears the
name of Pátaliputra, and is the home of wealth and learning.
When we heard from the mouth of Varsha the above strange and
extraordinarily marvellous story, our minds, O Kánabhúti, were for
a long time delighted with thrilling wonder.
CHAPTER IV.
Having related this episode to Kánabhúti in the Vindhya forest,
Vararuchi again resumed the main thread of his narrative.
While thus dwelling there with Vyádi and Indradatta, I gradually
attained perfection in all sciences, and emerged from the condition of
childhood. Once on a time when we went out to witness the festival of
Indra, we saw a maiden looking like some weapon of Cupid, not of the
nature of an arrow. Then, Indradatta, on my asking him who that lady
might be, replied,--"She is the daughter of Upavarsha, and her name
is Upakosá," and she found out by means of her handmaids who I was,
and drawing my soul after her with a glance made tender by love, she
with difficulty managed to return to her own house. She had a face
like a full moon, and eyes like a blue lotus, she had arms graceful
like the stalk of a lotus, and a lovely full [48] bosom; she had a neck
marked with three lines like a shell, [49] and magnificent coral lips;
in short she was a second Lakshmí, so to speak, the store-house of the
beauty of king Cupid. Then my heart was cleft by the stroke of love's
arrow, and I could not sleep that night through my desire to kiss her
bimba [50] lip. Having at last with difficulty gone off to sleep,
I saw, at the close of night, a celestial woman in white garments;
she said to me--"Upakosá was thy wife in a former birth; as she
appreciates merit, she desires no one but thee, therefore, my son,
thou oughtest not to feel anxious about this matter. I am Sarasvatí
[51] that dwell continually in thy frame, I cannot bear to behold thy
grief." When she had said this, she disappeared. Then I woke up and
somewhat encouraged I went slowly and stood under a young mango tree
near the house of my beloved; then her confidante came and told me of
the ardent attachment of Upakosá to me, the result of sudden passion:
then I with my pain doubled, said to her, "How can I obtain Upakosá,
unless her natural protectors willingly bestow her upon me? For
death is better than dishonour; so if by any means your friend's
heart became known to her parents, perhaps the end might be prosperous.
"Therefore bring this about, my good woman, save the life of me and
of thy friend." When she heard this, she went and told all to her
friend's mother, she immediately told it to her husband Upavarsha,
he to Varsha his brother, and Varsha approved of the match. Then, my
marriage having been determined upon, Vyádi by the order of my tutor
went and brought my mother from Kausámbí; so Upakosá was bestowed
upon me by her father with all due ceremonies, and I lived happily
in Pátaliputra with my mother and my wife.
Now in course of time Varsha got a great number of pupils, and among
them there was one rather stupid pupil of the name of Pánini; he,
being wearied out with service, was sent away by the preceptor's wife,
and being disgusted at it and longing for learning, he went to the
Himálaya to perform austerities: then he obtained from the god, who
wears the moon as a crest, propitiated by his severe austerities, a new
grammar, the source of all learning. Thereupon he came and challenged
me to a disputation, and seven days passed away in the course of our
disputation; on the eighth day he had been fairly conquered by me,
but immediately afterwards a terrible menacing sound was uttered by
Siva in the firmament; owing to that our Aindra grammar was exploded
in the world, [52] and all of us, being conquered by Pánini, became
accounted fools. Accordingly full of despondency I deposited in the
hand of the merchant Hiranyadatta my wealth for the maintenance of
my house, and after informing Upakosá of it, I went fasting to mount
Himálaya to propitiate Siva with austerities.
Story of Upakosá and her four lovers.
Upakosá on her part anxious for my success, remained in her own house,
bathing every day in the Ganges, strictly observing her vow. One day,
when spring had come, she being still beautiful, though thin and
slightly pale, and charming to the eyes of men, like the streak of
the new moon, was seen by the king's domestic chaplain while going
to bathe in the Ganges, and also by the head magistrate, and by the
prince's minister; and immediately they all of them became a target for
the arrows of love. It happened too somehow or other that she took a
long time bathing that day, and as she was returning in the evening,
the prince's minister laid violent hands on her, but she with great
presence of mind said to him, "Dear Sir, I desire this as much as you,
but I am of respectable family, and my husband is away from home. How
can I act thus? Some one might perhaps see us, and then misfortune
would befall you as well as me. Therefore you must come without fail
to my house in the first watch of the night of the spring-festival
when the citizens are all excited." [53] When she had said this,
and pledged herself, he let her go, but, as chance would have it, she
had not gone many steps further, before she was stopped by the king's
domestic chaplain. She made a similar assignation with him also for
the second watch of the same night; and so he too was, though with
difficulty, induced to let her go; but, after she had gone a little
further, up comes a third person, the head magistrate, and detains the
trembling lady. Then she made a similar assignation with him too for
the third watch of the same night, and having by great good fortune
got him to release her, she went home all trembling, and of her own
accord told her handmaids the arrangements she had made, reflecting,
"Death is better for a woman of good family when her husband is away,
than to meet the eyes of people who lust after beauty." Full of these
thoughts and regretting me, the virtuous lady spent that night in
fasting, lamenting her own beauty. Early the next morning she sent
a maid-servant to the merchant Hiranyagupta to ask for some money
in order that she might honour the Bráhmans: then that merchant also
came and said to her in private, "Shew me love, and then I will give
you what your husband deposited." When she heard that, she reflected
that she had no witness to prove the deposit of her husband's wealth,
and perceived that the merchant was a villain, and so tortured with
sorrow and grief, she made a fourth and last assignation with him for
the last watch of the same night; so he went away. In the meanwhile
she had prepared by her handmaids in a large vat lamp-black mixed
with oil and scented with musk and other perfumes, and she made ready
four pieces of rag anointed with it, and she caused to be made a large
trunk with a fastening outside. So on that day of the spring-festival
the prince's minister came in the first watch of the night in gorgeous
array. When he had entered without being observed Upakosá said to him,
"I will not receive you until you have bathed, so go in and bathe." The
simpleton agreed to that, and was taken by the handmaids into a secret
dark inner apartment. There they took off his under-garments and
his jewels, and gave him by way of an under-garment a single piece
of rag, and they smeared the rascal from head to foot with a thick
coating of that lamp-black and oil, pretending it was an unguent,
without his detecting it. While they continued rubbing it into every
limb, the second watch of the night came and the chaplain arrived,
the handmaids thereupon said to the minister,--"here is the king's
chaplain come, a great friend of Vararuchi's, so creep into this
box"--and they bundled him into the trunk, just as he was, all naked,
with the utmost precipitation: and then they fastened it outside with
a bolt. The priest too was brought inside into the dark room on the
pretence of a bath, and was in the same way stripped of his garments
and ornaments, and made a fool of by the handmaids by being rubbed with
lamp-black and oil, with nothing but the piece of rag on him, until in
the third watch the chief magistrate arrived. The handmaids immediately
terrified the priest with the news of his arrival, and pushed him into
the trunk like his predecessor. After they had bolted him in, they
brought in the magistrate on the pretext of giving him a bath, and
so he, like his fellows, with the piece of rag for his only garment,
was bamboozled by being continually anointed with lamp-black, until in
the last watch of the night the merchant arrived. The handmaids made
use of his arrival to alarm the magistrate and bundled him also into
the trunk, and fastened it on the outside. So those three being shut
up inside the box, as if they were bent on accustoming themselves to
live in the hell of blind darkness, did not dare to speak on account
of fear, though they touched one another. Then Upakosá brought a
lamp into the room, and making the merchant enter it, said to him,
"give me that money which my husband deposited with you." When he
heard that, the rascal said, observing that the room was empty,
"I told you that I would give you the money your husband deposited
with me." Upakosá calling the attention of the people in the trunk,
said--"Hear, O ye gods this speech of Hiranyagupta." When she had
said this, she blew out the light, and the merchant, like the others,
on the pretext of a bath was anointed by the handmaids for a long time
with lamp-black. Then they told him to go, for the darkness was over,
and at the close of the night they took him by the neck and pushed
him out of the door sorely against his will. Then he made the best of
his way home, with only the piece of rag to cover his nakedness, and
smeared with the black dye, with the dogs biting him at every step,
thoroughly ashamed of himself, and at last reached his own house; and
when he got there he did not dare to look his slaves in the face while
they were washing off that black dye. The path of vice is indeed a
painful one. In the early morning Upakosá accompanied by her handmaids
went, without informing her parents, to the palace of king Nanda, and
there she herself stated to the king that the merchant Hiranyagupta
was endeavouring to deprive her of money deposited with him by her
husband. The king in order to enquire into the matter immediately
had the merchant summoned, who said--"I have nothing in my keeping
belonging to this lady." Upakosá then said, "I have witnesses, my lord;
before he went, my husband put the household gods into a box, and this
merchant with his own lips admitted the deposit in their presence. Let
the box be brought here and ask the gods yourself." Having heard this
the king in astonishment ordered the box to be brought.
Thereupon in a moment that trunk was carried in by many men. Then
Upakosá said--"Relate truly, O gods, what that merchant said and then
go to your own houses; if you do not, I will burn you or open the
box in court." Hearing that, the men in the box, beside themselves
with fear, said--"It is true, the merchant admitted the deposit in
our presence." Then the merchant being utterly confounded confessed
all his guilt; but the king, being unable to restrain his curiosity,
after asking permission of Upakosá, opened the chest there in court
by breaking the fastening, and those three men were dragged out,
looking like three lumps of solid darkness, and were with difficulty
recognised by the king and his ministers. The whole assembly then burst
out laughing, and the king in his curiosity asked Upakosá, what was the
meaning of all this; so the virtuous lady told the whole story. All
present in court expressed their approbation of Upakosá's conduct,
observing: "The virtuous behaviour of women of good family who are
protected by their own excellent disposition [54] only, is incredible."
Then all those coveters of their neighbour's wife were deprived
of all their living, and banished from the country. Who prospers
by immorality? Upakosá was dismissed by the king, who shewed his
great regard for her by a present of much wealth, and said to her:
"Henceforth thou art my sister,"--and so she returned home. Varsha
and Upavarsha when they heard it, congratulated that chaste lady,
and there was a smile of admiration on the face of every single person
in that city. [55]
In the meanwhile, by performing a very severe penance on the snowy
mountain, I propitiated the god, the husband of Párvatí, the great
giver of all good things; he revealed to me that same treatise of
Pánini; and in accordance with his wish I completed it: then I returned
home without feeling the fatigue of the journey, full of the nectar
of the favour of that god who wears on his crest a digit of the moon;
then I worshipped the feet of my mother and of my spiritual teachers,
and heard from them the wonderful achievement of Upakosá, thereupon
joy and astonishment swelled to the upmost height in my breast,
together with natural affection and great respect for my wife.
Now Varsha expressed a desire to hear from my lips the new grammar,
and thereupon the god Kártikeya himself revealed it to him. And it
came to pass that Vyádi and Indradatta asked their preceptor Varsha
what fee they should give him? He replied, "Give me ten millions of
gold pieces." So they, consenting to the preceptor's demand, said to
me; "Come with us, friend, to ask the king Nanda to give us the sum
required for our teacher's fee; we cannot obtain so much gold from
any other quarter: for he possesses nine hundred and ninety millions,
and long ago he declared your wife Upakosá, his sister in the faith,
therefore you are his brother-in-law; we shall obtain something for
the sake of your virtues." Having formed this resolution, we three
fellow-students [56] went to the camp of king Nanda in Ayodhyá,
and the very moment we arrived, the king died; accordingly an
outburst of lamentation arose in the kingdom, and we were reduced
to despair. Immediately Indradatta, who was an adept in magic, said,
"I will enter the body of this dead king [57]; let Vararuchi prefer
the petition to me, and I will give him the gold, and let Vyádi guard
my body until I return." Saying this, Indradatta entered into the body
of king Nanda, and when the king came to life again, there was great
rejoicing in the kingdom. While Vyádi remained in an empty temple to
guard the body of Indradatta, I went to the king's palace. I entered,
and after making the usual salutation, I asked the supposed Nanda for
ten million gold pieces as my instructor's fee. Then he ordered a man
named Sakatála, the minister of the real Nanda, to give me ten million
of gold pieces. That minister, when he saw that the dead king had
come to life, and that the petitioner immediately got what he asked,
guessed the real state of the case. What is there that the wise cannot
understand? That minister said--"It shall be given, your Highness," and
reflected with himself; "Nanda's son is but a child, and our realm is
menaced by many enemies, so I will do my best for the present to keep
his body on the throne even in its present state." Having resolved
on this, he immediately took steps to have all dead bodies burnt,
employing spies to discover them, and among them was found the body
of Indradatta, which was burned after Vyádi had been hustled out of
the temple. In the meanwhile the king was pressing for the payment
of the money, but Sakatála, who was still in doubt, said to him,
"All the servants have got their heads turned by the public rejoicing,
let the Bráhman wait a moment until I can give it." Then Vyádi came and
complained aloud in the presence of the supposed Nanda, "Help, help,
a Bráhman engaged in magic, whose life had not yet come to an end in a
natural way, has been burnt by force on the pretext that his body was
untenanted, and this in the very moment of your good fortune." [58]
On hearing this the supposed Nanda was in an indescribable state of
distraction from grief: but as soon as Indradatta was imprisoned in
the body of Nanda, beyond the possibility of escape, by the burning of
his body, the discreet Sakatála went out and gave me that ten millions.
Then the supposed Nanda, [59] full of grief, said in secret to
Vyádi,--"Though a Bráhman by birth I have become a Súdra, what is the
use of my royal fortune to me though it be firmly established?" When he
heard that, Vyádi comforted him, [60] and gave him seasonable advice,
"You have been discovered by Sakatála, so you must henceforth be on
your guard against him, for he is a great minister, and in a short
time he will, when it suits his purpose, destroy you, and will
make Chandragupta, the son of the previous Nanda, king. Therefore
immediately appoint Vararuchi your minister, in order that your rule
may be firmly established by the help of his intellect, which is of
god-like acuteness." When he had said this, Vyádi departed to give
that fee to his preceptor, and immediately Yogananda sent for me and
made me his minister. Then I said to the king, "Though your caste as a
Bráhman has been taken from you, I do not consider your throne secure
as long as Sakatála remains in office, therefore destroy him by some
stratagem." When I had given him this advice, Yogananda threw Sakatála
into a dark dungeon, and his hundred sons with him, [61] proclaiming
as his crime that he had burnt a Bráhman alive. One porringer of
barley-meal and one of water was placed inside the dungeon every day
for Sakatála and his sons, and thereupon he said to them;--"My sons,
even one man alone would with difficulty subsist on this barley-meal,
much less can a number of people do so. Therefore let that one of us,
who is able to take vengeance on Yogananda, consume every day the
barley-meal and the water." His sons answered him, "You alone are
able to punish him, therefore do you consume them." For vengeance is
dearer to the resolute than life itself. So Sakatála alone subsisted
on that meal and water every day. Alas! those whose souls are set
on victory are cruel. Sakatála in the dark dungeon, beholding the
death agonies of his starving sons, thought to himself, "A man who
desires his own welfare should not act in an arbitrary manner towards
the powerful, without fathoming their character and acquiring their
confidence." Accordingly his hundred sons perished before his eyes,
and he alone remained alive surrounded by their skeletons. Then
Yogananda took firm root in his kingdom. And Vyádi approached him after
giving the present to his teacher, and after coming near to him said,
"May thy rule, my friend, last long! I take my leave of thee, I go to
perform austerities somewhere." Hearing that, Yogananda, with his voice
choked with tears, said to him, "Stop thou, and enjoy pleasures in my
kingdom, do not go and desert me." Vyádi answered--"King! Life comes to
an end in a moment. What wise man, I pray you, drowns himself in these
hollow and fleeting enjoyments? Prosperity, a desert mirage, does not
turn the head of the wise man." Saying this he went away that moment
resolved to mortify his flesh with austerities. Then that Yogananda
went to his metropolis Pátaliputra, for the purpose of enjoyment,
accompanied by me, and surrounded with his whole army. So I, having
attained prosperity, lived for a long time in that state, waited upon
by Upakosá, and bearing the burden of the office of prime-minister
to that king, accompanied by my mother and my preceptors. There the
Ganges, propitiated by my austerities, gave me every day much wealth,
and Sarasvatí present in bodily form told me continually what measures
to adopt.
CHAPTER V.
Having said this, Vararuchi continued his tale as follows:--
In course of time Yogananda became enslaved by his passions, and like
a mad elephant he disregarded every restraint. Whom will not a sudden
access of prosperity intoxicate? Then I reflected with myself, "The
king has burst all bonds, and my own religious duties are neglected
being interfered with by my care for his affairs, therefore it is
better for me to draw out that Sakatála from his dungeon and make
him my colleague in the ministry; even if he tries to oppose me,
what harm can he do as long as I am in office?" Having resolved on
this I asked permission of the king, and drew Sakatála out of the
deep dungeon. Bráhmans are always soft-hearted. Now the discreet
Sakatála made up his mind, that it would be difficult to overthrow
Yogananda as long as I was in office, and that he had accordingly
better imitate the cane which bends with the current, and watch a
favourable moment for vengeance, so at my request he resumed the
office of minister and managed the king's affairs.
Once on a time Yogananda went outside the city, and beheld in the
middle of the Ganges a hand, the five fingers of which were closely
pressed together. That moment he summoned me and said, "What does
this mean?" But I displayed two of my fingers in the direction of
the hand. Thereupon that hand disappeared, and the king, exceedingly
astonished, again asked me what this meant, and I answered him,
"That hand meant to say, by shewing its five fingers, 'What cannot
five men united effect in this world?' Then I, king, shewed it these
two fingers, wishing to indicate that nothing is impossible when even
two men are of one mind." When I uttered this solution of the riddle
the king was delighted, and Sakatála was despondent seeing that my
intellect would be difficult to circumvent.
One day Yogananda saw his queen leaning out of the window and asking
questions of a Bráhman guest that was looking up. That trivial
circumstance threw the king into a passion, and he gave orders that
the Bráhman should be put to death; for jealousy interferes with
discernment. Then as that Bráhman was being led off to the place
of execution in order that he might be put to death, a fish in the
market laughed aloud, though it was dead. [62] The king hearing it
immediately prohibited for the present the execution of that Bráhman,
and asked me the reason why the fish laughed. I replied that I would
tell him after I had thought over the matter; and after I had gone out
Sarasvatí came to me secretly on my thinking of her and gave me this
advice; "Take up a position on the top of this palm tree at night so as
not to be observed, and thou shalt without doubt hear the reason why
the fish laughed." Hearing this I went at night to that very place,
and ensconced myself on the top of the palm tree, and saw a terrible
female Rákshasa coming past with her children; when they asked her
for food, she said, "Wait, and I will give you to-morrow morning the
flesh of a Bráhman, he was not killed to-day." [63] They said to their
mother, "Why was he not killed to-day?" Then she replied, "He was not
executed because a fish in the town, though dead, laughed when it saw
him." The sons said, "Why did the fish laugh?" She continued, "The
fish of course said to himself--all the king's wives are dissolute,
for in every part of this harem there are men dressed up as women,
and nevertheless while these escape, an innocent Bráhman is to be put
to death--and this tickled the fish so that he laughed. For demons
assume these disguises, insinuating themselves into everything, and
laughing at the exceeding want of discernment of kings." After I had
heard that speech of the female Rákshasa I went away from thence, and
in the morning I informed the king why the fish laughed. The king after
detecting in the harem those men clothed as women, looked upon me with
great respect, and released that Bráhman from the sentence of death.
I was disgusted by seeing this and other lawless proceedings on the
part of the king, and, while I was in this frame of mind, there
came to court a new painter. He painted on a sheet of canvas the
principal queen and Yogananda, and that picture of his looked as if
it were alive, it only lacked speech and motion. And the king being
delighted loaded that painter with wealth, and had the painting set
up on a wall in his private apartments. Now one day when I entered
into the king's private apartments, it occurred to me that the
painting of the queen did not represent all her auspicious marks;
from the arrangement of the other marks I conjectured by means of
my acuteness that there ought to be a spot where the girdle comes,
and I painted one there. Then I departed after thus giving the queen
all her lucky marks. Then Yogananda entered and saw that spot, and
asked his chamberlains who had painted it. And they indicated me to
him as the person who had painted it. Yogananda thus reflected while
burning with anger; "No one except myself knows of that spot, which
is in a part of the queen's body usually concealed, then how can this
Vararuchi have come thus to know it? [64] No doubt he has secretly
corrupted my harem, and this is how he came to see there those men
disguised as women." Foolish men often find such coincidences. Then of
his own motion he summoned Sakatála, and gave him the following order:
"You must put Vararuchi to death for seducing the queen." Sakatála
said, "Your Majesty's orders shall be executed," and went out of the
palace, reflecting, "I should not have power to put Vararuchi to death,
for he possesses godlike force of intellect; and he delivered me from
calamity; moreover he is a Bráhman, therefore I had better hide him and
win him over to my side." Having formed this resolution, he came and
told me of the king's causeless wrath which had ended in his ordering
my execution, and thus concluded, "I will have some one else put to
death in order that the news may get abroad, and do you remain hidden
in my house to protect me from this passionate king." In accordance
with this proposal of his, I remained concealed in his house, and he
had some one else put to death at night in order that the report of
my death might be spread. [65] When he had in this way displayed his
statecraft, I said to him out of affection, "You have shewn yourself an
unrivalled minister in that you did not attempt to put me to death;
for I cannot be slain, since I have a Rákshasa to friend, and he
will come, on being only thought of, and at my request will devour
the whole world. As for this king he is a friend of mine, being a
Bráhman named Indradatta, and he ought not to be slain." Hearing
this, that minister said--"Shew me the Rákshasa." Then I shewed
him that Rákshasa who came with a thought; and on beholding him,
Sakatála was astonished and terrified. And when the Rákshasa had
disappeared, Sakatála again asked me--"How did the Rákshasa become
your friend?" Then I said--"Long ago the heads of the police as they
went through the city night after night on inspecting duty, perished
one by one. On hearing that, Yogananda made me head of the police,
and as I was on my rounds at night, I saw a Rákshasa roaming about,
and he said to me, "Tell me, who is considered the best-looking woman
in this city?" When I heard that, I burst out laughing and said--"You
fool, any woman is good-looking to the man who admires her." Hearing
my answer, he said--"You are the only man that has beaten me." And
now that I had escaped death by solving his riddle, [66] he again
said to me, "I am pleased with you, henceforth you are my friend,
and I will appear to you when you call me to mind." Thus he spoke and
disappeared, and I returned by the way that I came. Thus the Rákshasa
has become my friend, and my ally in trouble. When I had said this,
Sakatála made a second request to me, and I shewed him the goddess
of the Ganges in human form who came when I thought of her. And that
goddess disappeared when she had been gratified by me with hymns of
praise. But Sakatála became from thenceforth my obedient ally.
Now once on a time that minister said to me when my state of
concealment weighed upon my spirits; "why do you, although you know
all things, abandon yourself to despondency? Do you not know that
the minds of kings are most undiscerning, and in a short time you
will be cleared from all imputations; [67] in proof of which listen
to the following tale:--
The story of Sivavarman.
There reigned here long ago a king named Ádityavarman, and he had a
very wise minister, named Sivavarman. Now it came to pass that one
of that king's queens became pregnant, and when he found it out,
the king said to the guards of the harem, "It is now two years since
I entered this place, then how has this queen become pregnant? Tell
me." Then they said, "No man except your minister Sivavarman is
allowed to enter here, but he enters without any restriction." When
he heard that, the king thought,--"Surely he is guilty of treason
against me, and yet if I put him to death publicly, I shall incur
reproach,"--thus reflecting, that king sent that Sivavarman on some
pretext to Bhogavarman a neighbouring chief, [68] who was an ally of
his, and immediately afterwards the king secretly sent off a messenger
to the same chief, bearing a letter by which he was ordered to put
the minister to death. When a week had elapsed after the minister's
departure, that queen tried to escape out of fear, and was taken by
the guards with a man in woman's attire, then Ádityavarman when he
heard of it was filled with remorse, and asked himself why he had
causelessly brought about the death of so excellent a minister. In
the meanwhile Sivavarman reached the Court of Bhogavarman, and that
messenger came bringing the letter; and fate would have it so that
after Bhogavarman had read the letter he told to Sivavarman in secret
the order he had received to put him to death.
The excellent minister Sivavarman in his turn said to that chief,--"put
me to death; if you do not, I will slay myself with my own hand." When
he heard that, Bhogavarman was filled with wonder, and said to him,
"What does all this mean? Tell me Bráhman, if you do not, you will lie
under my curse." Then the minister said to him, "King, in whatever land
I am slain, on that land God will not send rain for twelve years." When
he heard that, Bhogavarman debated with his minister,--"that wicked
king desires the destruction of our land, for could he not have
employed secret assassins to kill his minister? So we must not put this
minister to death, moreover we must prevent him from laying violent
hands on himself." Having thus deliberated and appointed him guards,
Bhogavarman sent Sivavarman out of his country that moment; so that
minister by means of his wisdom returned alive, and his innocence was
established from another quarter, for righteousness cannot be undone.
In the same way your innocence will be made clear, Kátyáyana; remain
for a while in my house; this king too will repent of what he has
done. When Sakatála said this to me, I spent those days concealed in
his house, waiting my opportunity.
Then it came to pass that one day, O Kánabhúti, a son of that
Yogananda named Hiranyagupta went out hunting, and when he had
somehow or other been carried to a great distance by the speed of
his horse, while he was alone in the wood the day came to an end;
and then he ascended a tree to pass the night. Immediately afterwards
a bear, which had been terrified by a lion, ascended the same tree;
he seeing the prince frightened, said to him with a human voice,
"Fear not, thou art my friend," and thus promised him immunity from
harm. Then the prince confiding in the bear's promise went to sleep,
while the bear remained awake. Then the lion below said to the bear,
"Bear, throw me down this man, and I will go away." Then the bear said,
"Villain, I will not cause the death of a friend." When in course of
time the bear went to sleep while the prince was awake, the lion said
again, "Man, throw me down the bear." When he heard that, the prince,
who through fear for his own safety wished to propitiate the lion,
tried to throw down the bear, but wonderful to say, it did not fall,
since Fate caused it to awake. And then that bear said to the prince,
"become insane, thou betrayer of thy friend," [69] laying upon him
a curse destined not to end until a third person guessed the whole
transaction. Accordingly the prince, when he reached his palace in the
morning went out of his mind, and Yogananda seeing it, was immediately
plunged in despondency; and said, "If Vararuchi were alive at this
moment, all this matter would be known; curse on my readiness to have
him put to death!" Sakatála, when he heard this exclamation of the
king's, thought to himself, "Ha! here is an opportunity obtained for
bringing Kátyáyana out of concealment, and he being a proud man will
not remain here, and the king will repose confidence in me." After
reflecting thus, he implored pardon, and said to the king, "O King,
cease from despondency, Vararuchi remains alive." Then Yogananda said,
"Let him be brought quickly." Then I was suddenly brought by Sakatála
into the presence of Yogananda and beheld the prince in that state;
and by the favour of Sarasvatí I was enabled to reveal the whole
occurrence; and I said, "King, he has proved a traitor to his friend";
then I was praised by that prince who was delivered from his curse;
and the king asked me how I had managed to find out what had taken
place. Then I said, "King, the minds of the wise see everything by
inference from signs, and by acuteness of intellect. So I found out
all this in the same way as I found out that mole." When I had said
this, that king was afflicted with shame. Then without accepting his
munificence, considering myself to have gained all I desired by the
clearing of my reputation, I went home: for to the wise character
is wealth. And the moment I arrived, the servants of my house wept
before me, and when I was distressed at it Upavarsha came to me and
said, "Upakosá, when she heard that the king had put you to death,
committed her body to the flames, and then your mother's heart
broke with grief." Hearing that, senseless with the distraction
produced by recently aroused grief, I suddenly fell on the ground
like a tree broken by the wind: and in a moment I tasted the relief
of loud lamentations; whom will not the fire of grief, produced by
the loss of dear relations, scorch? Varsha came and gave me sound
advice in such words as these, "The only thing that is stable in
this ever-changeful world is instability, then why are you distracted
though you know this delusion of the Creator"? By the help of these
and similar exhortations I at length, though with difficulty, regained
my equanimity; then with heart disgusted with the world, I flung aside
all earthly lords, and choosing self-restraint for my only companion,
I went to a grove where asceticism was practised.
Then, as days went by, once on a time a Bráhman from Ayodhyá came to
that ascetic-grove while I was there: I asked him for tidings about
Yogananda's government, and he recognizing me told me in sorrowful
accents the following story:
"Hear what happened to Nanda after you had left him. Sakatála
after waiting for it a long time, found that he had now obtained
an opportunity of injuring him. While thinking how he might by
some device get Yogananda killed, he happened to see a Bráhman
named Chánakya digging up the earth in his path; he said to him,
"Why are you digging up the earth?" The Bráhman, whom he had asked,
said, I am rooting up a plant of darbha grass here, because it has
pricked my foot. [70] When he heard that, the minister thought that
Bráhman who formed such stern resolves out of anger, would be the best
instrument to destroy Nanda with. After asking his name he said to him,
"Bráhman, I assign to you the duty of presiding at a sráddha on the
thirteenth day of the lunar fortnight, in the house of king Nanda;
you shall have one hundred thousand gold pieces by way of fee, and
you shall sit at the board above all others; in the meanwhile come
to my house." Saying this, Sakatála took that Bráhman to his house,
and on the day of the sráddha he showed the Bráhman to the king,
and he approved of him. Then Chánakya went and sat at the head of
the table during the sráddha, but a Bráhman named Subandhu desired
that post of honour for himself. Then Sakatála went and referred the
matter to king Nanda, who answered, "Let Subandhu sit at the head of
the table, no one else deserves the place." Then Sakatála went, and,
humbly bowing through fear, communicated that order of the king's to
Chánakya, adding, "it is not my fault." Then that Chánakya, being,
as it were, inflamed all over with wrath, undoing the lock of hair on
the crown of his head, made this solemn vow, "Surely this Nanda must be
destroyed by me within seven days, and then my anger being appeased I
will bind up my lock." When he had said this, Yogananda was enraged;
so Chánakya escaped unobserved, and Sakatála gave him refuge in his
house. Then being supplied by Sakatála with the necessary instruments,
that Bráhman Chánakya went somewhere and performed a magic rite;
in consequence of this rite Yogananda caught a burning fever, and
died when the seventh day arrived; and Sakatála, having slain Nanda's
son Hiranyagupta, bestowed the royal dignity upon Chandragupta a son
of the previous Nanda. And after he had requested Chánakya, equal in
ability to Brihaspati, [71] to be Chandragupta's prime-minister, and
established him in the office, that minister, considering that all
his objects had been accomplished, as he had wreaked his vengeance
on Yogananda, despondent through sorrow for the death of his sons,
retired to the forest." [72]
After I had heard this, O Kánabhúti, from the mouth of that Bráhman, I
became exceedingly afflicted, seeing that all things are unstable; and
on account of my affliction I came to visit this shrine of Durgá, and
through her favour having beheld you, O my friend, I have remembered
my former birth.
And having obtained divine discernment I have told you the great tale:
now as my curse has spent its strength, I will strive to leave the
body; and do you remain here for the present, until there comes to you
a Bráhman named Gunádhya, who has forsaken the use of three languages,
[73] surrounded with his pupils, for he like myself was cursed by the
goddess in anger, being an excellent Gana Mályaván by name, who for
taking my part has become a mortal. To him you must tell this tale
originally told by Siva, then you shall be delivered from your curse,
and so shall he.
Having said all this to Kánabhúti, that Vararuchi set forth for the
holy hermitage of Badariká in order to put off his body. As he was
going along he beheld on the banks of the Ganges a vegetable-eating
[74] hermit, and while he was looking on, that hermit's hand was
pricked with kusa grass. Then Vararuchi turned his blood, as it
flowed out, into sap [75] through his magic power, out of curiosity,
in order to test his egotism; on beholding that, the hermit exclaimed,
"Ha! I have attained perfection;" and so he became puffed up with
pride. Then Vararuchi laughed a little and said to him, "I turned
your blood into sap in order to test you, because even now, O hermit,
you have not abandoned egotism. Egotism is in truth an obstacle in the
road to knowledge hard to overcome, and without knowledge liberation
cannot be attained even by a hundred vows. But the perishable joys of
Svarga cannot attract the hearts of those who long for liberation,
therefore, O hermit, endeavour to acquire knowledge by forsaking
egotism." Having thus read that hermit a lesson, and having been
praised by him prostrate in adoration, Vararuchi went to the tranquil
site of the hermitage of Badarí. [76] There he, desirous of putting off
his mortal condition, resorted for protection with intense devotion
to that goddess who only can protect, and she manifesting her real
form to him told him the secret of that meditation which arises from
fire, to help him to put off the body. Then Vararuchi having consumed
his body by that form of meditation, reached his own heavenly home;
and henceforth that Kánabhúti remained in the Vindhya forest eager
for his desired meeting with Gunádhya.
CHAPTER VI.
Then that Mályaván wandering about in the wood in human form, passing
under the name of Gunádhya, having served the king Sátaváhana, and
having, in accordance with a vow, abandoned in his presence the use
of Sanskrit and two other languages, with sorrowful mind came to pay a
visit to Durgá, the dweller in the Vindhya hills; and by her orders he
went and beheld Kánabhúti. Then he remembered his origin and suddenly,
as it were, awoke from sleep; and making use of the Paisácha language,
which was different from the three languages he had sworn to forsake,
he said to Kánabhúti, after telling him his own name; "Quickly tell
me that tale which you heard from Pushpadanta, in order that you
and I together, my friend, may escape from our curse." Hearing that,
Kánabhúti bowed before him, and said to him in joyful mood, "I will
tell you the story, but great curiosity possesses me, my lord, first
tell me all your adventures from your birth, do me this favour." Thus
being entreated by him, Gunádhya proceeded to relate as follows:
In Pratishthána [77] there is a city named Supratishthita; in it there
dwelt once upon a time an excellent Bráhman named Somasarman, and he,
my friend, had two sons Vatsa and Gulmaka, and he had also born to
him a third child, a daughter named Srutárthá. Now in course of time,
that Bráhman and his wife died, and those two sons of his remained
taking care of their sister. And she suddenly became pregnant. Then
Vatsa and Gulma began to suspect one another, because no other man
came in their sister's way: thereupon Srutárthá, who saw what was
in their minds, said to those brothers,--"Do not entertain evil
suspicions, listen, I will tell you the truth; there is a prince of
the name of Kírtisena, brother's son to Vásuki, the king of the Nágas;
[78] he saw me when I was going to bathe, thereupon he was overcome
with love, and after telling me his lineage and his name, made me
his wife by the Gándharva marriage; he belongs to the Bráhman race,
and it is by him that I am pregnant." When they heard this speech of
their sister's, Vatsa and Gulma said, "What confidence can we repose
in all this?" Then she silently called to mind that Nága prince, and
immediately he was thought upon, he came and said to Vatsa and Gulma,
"In truth I have made your sister my wife, she is a glorious heavenly
nymph fallen down to earth in consequence of a curse, and you too have
descended to earth for the same reason, but a son shall without fail
be born to your sister here, and then you and she together shall be
freed from your curse." Having said this he disappeared, and in a few
days from that time, a son was born to Srutárthá; know me my friend as
that son. [79] At that very time a divine voice was heard from heaven,
"This child that is born is an incarnation of virtue, and he shall
be called Gunádhya, [80] and is of the Bráhman caste." Thereupon
my mother and uncles, as their curse had spent its force, died,
and I for my part became inconsolable. Then I flung aside my grief,
and though a child I went in the strength of my self-reliance to
the Deccan to acquire knowledge. Then, having in course of time
learned all sciences, and become famous, I returned to my native
land to exhibit my accomplishments; and when I entered after a long
absence into the city of Supratishthita, surrounded by my disciples,
I saw a wonderfully splendid scene. In one place chanters were
intoning according to prescribed custom the hymns of the Sáma Veda,
in another place Bráhmans were disputing about the interpretation of
the sacred books, in another place gamblers were praising gambling
in these deceitful words, "Whoever knows the art of gambling, has a
treasure in his grasp," and in another place, in the midst of a knot
of merchants, who were talking to one another about their skill in
the art of making money, a certain merchant spoke as follows:
Story of the Mouse-merchant.
It is not very wonderful that a thrifty man should acquire wealth by
wealth; but I long ago achieved prosperity without any wealth to start
with. My father died before I was born, and then my mother was deprived
by wicked relations of all she possessed. Then she fled through fear of
them, watching over the safety of her unborn child, and dwelt in the
house of Kumáradatta a friend of my father's, and there the virtuous
woman gave birth to me, who was destined to be the means of her future
maintenance; and so she reared me up by performing menial drudgery. And
as she was so poor, she persuaded a teacher by way of charity to give
me some instruction in writing and ciphering. Then she said to me,
"You are the son of a merchant, so you must now engage in trade,
and there is a very rich merchant in this country called Visákhila;
he is in the habit of lending capital to poor men of good family,
go and entreat him to give you something to start with." Then I went
to his house, and he at the very moment I entered, said in a rage to
some merchant's son; "you see this dead mouse here upon the floor,
even that is a commodity by which a capable man would acquire wealth,
but I gave you, you good-for-nothing fellow, many dínárs, [81] and
so far from increasing them, you have not even been able to preserve
what you got." When I heard that, I suddenly said to that Visákhila,
"I hereby take from you that mouse as capital advanced;" saying this
I took the mouse up in my hand, and wrote him a receipt for it,
which he put in his strong box, and off I went. The merchant for
his part burst out laughing. Well, I sold that mouse to a certain
merchant as cat's-meat for two handfuls of gram, then I ground up
that gram, and taking a pitcher of water, I went and stood on the
cross-road in a shady place, outside the city; there I offered with
the utmost civility the water and gram to a band of wood-cutters;
[82] every wood-cutter gave me as a token of gratitude two pieces of
wood; and I took those pieces of wood and sold them in the market;
then for a small part of the price which I got for them, I bought a
second supply of gram, and in the same way on a second day I obtained
wood from the wood-cutters. Doing this every day I gradually acquired
capital, and I bought from those wood-cutters all their wood for three
days. Then suddenly there befell a dearth of wood on account of heavy
rains, and I sold that wood for many hundred panas, with that wealth I
set up a shop, and engaging in traffic, I have become a very wealthy
man by my own ability. Then I made a mouse of gold, and gave it to
that Visákhila, then he gave me his daughter; and in consequence of
my history I am known in the world by the name of Mouse. So without a
coin in the world I acquired this prosperity. All the other merchants
then, when they heard this story, were astonished. How can the mind
help being amazed at pictures without walls? [83]
Story of the chanter of the Sáma Veda.
In another place a Bráhman who had got eight gold máshas as a
present, a chanter of the Sáma Veda, received the following piece
of advice from a man who was a bit of a roué, "You get enough to
live upon by your position as a Bráhman, so you ought now to employ
this gold for the purpose of learning the way of the world in order
that you may become a knowing fellow." The fool said "Who will teach
me?" Thereupon the roué said to him, "This lady [84] named Chaturiká,
go to her house." The Bráhman said, "What am I to do there"? The roué
replied--"Give her gold, and in order to please her make use of some
sáma." [85] When he heard this, the chanter went quickly to the house
of Chaturiká; when he entered, the lady advanced to meet him and he
took a seat. Then that Bráhman gave her the gold and faltered out the
request, "Teach me now for this fee the way of the world." Thereupon
the people who were there began to titter, and he, after reflecting
a little, putting his hands together in the shape of a cow's ear,
so that they formed a kind of pipe, began, like a stupid idiot, to
chant with a shrill sound the Sáma Veda, so that all the roués in
the house came together to see the fun; and they said "Whence has
this jackal blundered in here? Come, let us quickly give him the
half-moon [86] on his throat." Thereupon the Bráhman supposing that
the half-moon meant an arrow with a head of that shape, and afraid
of having his head cut off, rushed out of the house, bellowing out,
"I have learnt the way of the world;" then he went to the man who had
sent him, and told him the whole story. He replied "when I told you
to use sáma, I meant coaxing and wheedling; what is the propriety
of introducing the Veda in a matter of this kind? The fact is, I
suppose, that stupidity is engrained in a man who muddles his head
with the Vedas?" So he spoke, bursting with laughter all the while,
and went off to the lady's house, and said to her, "Give back to that
two-legged cow his gold-fodder." So she laughing gave back the money,
and when the Bráhman got it, he went back to his house as happy as
if he had been born again.
Witnessing strange scenes of this kind at every step, I reached
the palace of the king which was like the court of Indra. And then
I entered it, with my pupils going before to herald my arrival,
and saw the king Sátaváhana sitting in his hall of audience upon a
jewelled throne, surrounded by his ministers, Sarvavarman and his
colleagues, as Indra is by the gods. After I had blessed him and had
taken a seat, and had been honoured by the king, Sarvavarman and the
other ministers praised me in the following words, "This man, O king,
is famous upon the earth as skilled in all lore, and therefore his
name Gunádhya [87] is a true index of his nature." Sátaváhana hearing
me praised in this style by his ministers, was pleased with me and
immediately entertained me honourably, and appointed me to the office
of Minister. Then I married a wife, and lived there comfortably,
looking after the king's affairs and instructing my pupils.
Once, as I was roaming about at leisure on the banks of the Godávarí
out of curiosity, I beheld a garden called Devíkriti, and seeing
that it was an exceedingly pleasant garden, like an earthly Nandana,
[88] I asked the gardener how it came there, and he said to me,
"My lord, according to the story which we hear from old people,
long ago there came here a certain Bráhman who observed a vow of
silence and abstained from food, he made this heavenly garden with
a temple; then all the Bráhmans assembled here out of curiosity, and
that Bráhman being persistently asked by them told his history. There
is in this land a province called Vakakachchha on the banks of the
Narmadá, in that district I was born as a Bráhman, and in former
times no one gave me alms, as I was lazy as well as poor; then in
a fit of annoyance I quitted my house being disgusted with life,
and wandering round the holy places, I came to visit the shrine
of Durgá the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and having beheld that
goddess, I reflected, 'People propitiate with animal offerings this
giver of boons, but I will slay myself here, stupid beast that I
am.' Having formed this resolve, I took in hand a sword to cut off
my head. Immediately that goddess being propitious, herself said to
me, 'Son, thou art perfected, do not slay thyself, remain near me;'
thus I obtained a boon from the goddess and attained divine nature;
from that day forth my hunger and thirst disappeared; then once on a
time, as I was remaining there, that goddess herself said to me, 'Go,
my son, and plant in Pratishthána a glorious garden;' thus speaking,
she gave me, with her own hands, heavenly seed; thereupon I came here
and made this beautiful garden by means of her power; and this garden
you must keep in good order. Having said this, he disappeared. In this
way this garden was made by the goddess long ago, my lord." When I
had heard from the gardener this signal manifestation of the favour
of the goddess, I went home penetrated with wonder.
The story of Sátaváhana.
When Gunádhya had said this, Kánabhúti asked, "Why, my lord, was the
king called Sátaváhana?" Then Gunádhya said, Listen, I will tell you
the reason. There was a king of great power named Dvípikarni. He had
a wife named Saktimatí, whom he valued more than life, and once upon a
time a snake bit her as she was sleeping in the garden. Thereupon she
died, and that king thinking only of her, though he had no son, took a
vow of perpetual chastity. Then once upon a time the god of the moony
crest said to him in a dream--"While wandering in the forest thou shalt
behold a boy mounted on a lion, take him and go home, he shall be thy
son." Then the king woke up, and rejoiced remembering that dream, and
one day in his passion for the chase he went to a distant wood; there
in the middle of the day that king beheld on the bank of a lotus-lake
a boy splendid as the sun, riding on a lion; the lion desiring to
drink water set down the boy, and then the king remembering his dream
slew it with one arrow. The creature thereupon abandoned the form of
a lion, and suddenly assumed the shape of a man; the king exclaimed,
"Alas! what means this? tell me!" and then the man answered him--"O
king, I am a Yaksha of the name of Sáta, an attendant upon the god
of wealth; long ago I beheld the daughter of a Rishi bathing in the
Ganges; she too, when she beheld me, felt love arise in her breast,
like myself: then I made her my wife by the Gándharva form of marriage;
and her relatives, finding it out, in their anger cursed me and her,
saying, "You two wicked ones, doing what is right in your own eyes,
shall become lions." The hermit-folk appointed that her curse should
end when she gave birth to offspring, and that mine should continue
longer, until I was slain by thee with an arrow. So we became a pair
of lions; she in course of time became pregnant, and then died after
this boy was born, but I brought him up on the milk of other lionesses,
and lo! to-day I am released from my curse having been smitten by thee
with an arrow. Therefore receive this noble son which I give thee, for
this thing was foretold long ago by those hermit-folk." Having said
this that Guhyaka named Sáta disappeared, [89] and the king taking
the boy went home; and because he had ridden upon Sáta he gave the
boy the name of Sátaváhana, and in course of time he established him
in his kingdom. Then, when that king Dvípikarni went to the forest,
this Sátaváhana became sovereign of the whole earth.
Having said this in the middle of his tale in answer to Kánabhúti's
question, the wise Gunádhya again called to mind and went on with the
main thread of his narrative. Then once upon a time, in the spring
festival that king Sátaváhana went to visit the garden made by the
goddess, of which I spake before. He roamed there for a long time like
Indra in the garden of Nandana, and descended into the water of the
lake to amuse himself in company with his wives. There he sprinkled
his beloved ones sportively with water flung by his hands, and was
sprinkled by them in return like an elephant by its females. His wives
with faces, the eyes of which were slightly reddened by the collyrium
washed into them, and which were streaming with water, and with bodies
the proportions of which were revealed by their clinging garments,
pelted him vigorously; and as the wind strips the creepers in the
forest of leaves and flowers, so he made his fair ones who fled into
the adjoining shrubbery lose the marks on their foreheads [90] and
their ornaments. Then one of his queens tardy with the weight of her
breasts, with body tender as a sirísha flower, became exhausted with
the amusement; she not being able to endure more, said to the king who
was sprinkling her with water,--"do not pelt me with water-drops;"
on hearing that, the king quickly had some sweetmeats [91] brought;
then the queen burst out laughing and said again--"king, what do we
want with sweetmeats in the water? For I said to you, do not sprinkle
me with water-drops. Do you not even understand the coalescence
of the words má and udaka, and do you not know that chapter of the
grammar,--how can you be such a blockhead?" When the queen, who knew
grammatical treatises, said this to him, and the attendants laughed,
the king was at once overpowered with secret shame; he left off romping
in the water and immediately entered his own palace unperceived,
crest-fallen, and full of self-contempt. Then he remained lost in
thought, bewildered, averse to food and other enjoyments, and, like a
picture, even when asked a question, he answered nothing. Thinking that
his only resource was to acquire learning or die, he flung himself down
on a couch, and remained in an agony of grief. Then all the king's
attendants, seeing that he had suddenly fallen into such a state,
were utterly beside themselves to think what it could mean. Then I
and Sarvavarman came at last to hear of the king's condition, and by
that time the day was almost at an end. So perceiving that the king
was still in an unsatisfactory condition, we immediately summoned a
servant of the king named Rájahansa. And he, when asked by us about
the state of the king's health, said this--"I never before in my
life saw the king in such a state of depression: and the other queens
told me with much indignation that he had been humiliated to-day by
that superficial blue-stocking, the daughter of Vishnusakti." When
Sarvavarman and I had heard this from the mouth of the king's servant,
we fell into a state of despondency, and thus reflected in our dilemma;
"If the king were afflicted with bodily disease, we might introduce
the physicians, but if his disease is mental it is impossible to
find the cause of it. For there is no enemy in his country the
thorns of which are destroyed, and these subjects are attached to
him; no dearth of any kind is to be seen; so how can this sudden
melancholy of the king's have arisen?" After we had debated to this
effect, the wise Sarvavarman said as follows--"I know the cause,
this king is distressed by sorrow for his own ignorance, for he is
always expressing a desire for culture, saying 'I am a blockhead;'
I long ago detected this desire of his, and we have heard that the
occasion of the present fit is his having been humiliated by the
queen." Thus we debated with one another and after we had passed
that night, in the morning we went to the private apartments of
the sovereign. There, though strict orders had been given that no
one was to enter, I managed to get in with difficulty, and after me
Sarvavarman slipped in quickly. I then sat down near the king and
asked him this question--"Why, O king, art thou without cause thus
despondent?" Though he heard this, Sátaváhana nevertheless remained
silent, and then Sarvavarman uttered this extraordinary speech, "King,
thou didst long ago say to me, 'Make me a learned man.' Thinking upon
that I employed last night a charm to produce a dream. [92] Then I
saw in my dream a lotus fallen from heaven, and it was opened by some
heavenly youth, and out of it came a divine woman in white garments,
and immediately, O king, she entered thy mouth. When I had seen so
much I woke up, and I think without doubt that the woman who visibly
entered thy mouth was Sarasvatí." As soon as Sarvavarman had in these
terms described his dream, the king broke his silence and said to me
with the utmost earnestness,--"In how short a time can a man, who
is diligently taught, acquire learning? Tell me this. For without
learning all this regal splendour has no charms for me. What is the
use of rank and power to a blockhead? They are like ornaments on a log
of wood." Then I said, "King, it is invariably the case that it takes
men twelve years to learn grammar, the gate to all knowledge. But I,
my sovereign, will teach it you in six years." When he heard that,
Sarvavarman suddenly exclaimed in a fit of jealousy--"How can a man
accustomed to enjoyment endure hardship for so long? So I will teach
you grammar, my prince, in six months." When I heard this promise
which it seemed impossible to make good, I said to him in a rage,
"If you teach the king in six months, I renounce at once and for ever
Sanskrit, Prakrit, and the vernacular dialect, these three languages
which pass current among men;" [93] then Sarvavarman said--"And if I do
not do this, I Sarvavarman, will carry your shoes on my head for twelve
years." Having said this he went out; I too went home; and the king
for his part was comforted, expecting that he would attain his object
by means of one of us two. Now Sarvavarman being in a dilemma, seeing
that his promise was one very difficult to perform, and regretting
what he had done, told the whole story to his wife, and she grieved to
hear it said to him, "My lord, in this difficulty there is no way of
escape for you except the favour of the Lord Kártikeya." [94] "It is
so," said Sarvavarman and determined to implore it. Accordingly in the
last watch of the night, Sarvavarman set out fasting for the shrine of
the god. Now I came to hear of it by means of my secret emissaries,
and in the morning I told the king of it; and he, when he heard it,
wondered what would happen. Then a trusty Rájpút called Sinhagupta
said to him, "When I heard, O king, that thou wast afflicted I was
seized with great despondency. Then I went out of this city, and was
preparing to cut off my own head before the goddess Durgá in order
to ensure thy happiness. Then a voice from heaven forbade me, saying,
'Do not so, the king's wish shall be fulfilled.' Therefore, I believe,
thou art sure of success." When he had said this, that Sinhagupta
took leave of the king, and rapidly despatched two emissaries after
Sarvavarman; who feeding only on air, observing a vow of silence,
steadfast in resolution, reached at last the shrine of the Lord
Kártikeya. There, pleased with his penance that spared not the body,
Kártikeya favoured him according to his desire; then the two spies
sent by Sinhagupta came into the king's presence and reported the
minister's success. On hearing that news the king was delighted and I
was despondent, as the chátaka joys, and the swan grieves, on seeing
the cloud. [95] Then Sarvavarman arrived successful by the favour
of Kártikeya, and communicated to the king all the sciences, which
presented themselves to him on his thinking of them. And immediately
they were revealed to the king Sátaváhana. For what cannot the grace of
the Supreme Lord accomplish? Then the kingdom rejoiced on hearing that
the king had thus obtained all knowledge, and there was high festival
kept throughout it; and that moment banners were flaunted from every
house, and being fanned by the wind, seemed to dance. Then Sarvavarman
was honoured with abundance of jewels fit for a king by the sovereign,
who bowed humbly before him, calling him his spiritual preceptor, and
he was made governor of the territory called Vakakachchha, which lies
along the bank of the Narmadá. The king being highly pleased with that
Rájpút Sinhagupta, who first heard by the mouth of his spies, that the
boon had been obtained from the six-faced god, [96] made him equal to
himself in splendour and power. And that queen too, the daughter of
Vishnusakti, who was the cause of his acquiring learning, he exalted
at one bound above all the queens, through affection anointing [97]
her with his own hand.
CHAPTER VII.
Then, having taken a vow of silence, I came into the presence of the
sovereign, and there a certain Bráhman recited a sloka he had composed,
and the king himself addressed him correctly in the Sanskrit language;
and the people who were present in court were delighted when they
witnessed that. Then the king said deferentially to Sarvavarman--"Tell
me thyself after what fashion the god shewed thee favour." Hearing
that, Sarvavarman proceeded to relate to the king the whole story of
Kártikeya's favourable acceptance of him.
"I went, O king, on that occasion fasting and silent from this
place, so when the journey came to an end, being very despondent,
and emaciated with my severe austerities, worn out I fell senseless
on the ground. Then, I remember, a man with a spear in his hand came
and said to me in distinct accents, 'Rise up, my son, everything
shall turn out favourably for thee.' By that speech I was, as it were,
immediately bedewed with a shower of nectar, and I woke up, and seemed
free from hunger and thirst and in good ease. Then I approached the
neighbourhood of the god's temple, overpowered with the weight of
my devotion, and after bathing I entered the inner shrine of the god
in a state of agitated suspense. Then that Lord Skanda [98] gave me
a sight of himself within, and thereupon Sarasvatí in visible shape
entered my mouth. So that holy god, manifested before me, recited
the sútra beginning 'the traditional doctrine of letters.' On hearing
that, I, with the levity which is so natural to mankind, guessed the
next sútra and uttered it myself. Then that god said to me, 'if thou
hadst not uttered it thyself, this grammatical treatise would have
supplanted that of Pánini. As it is, on account of its conciseness,
it shall be called Kátantra, and Kálápaka, from the tail (kalápa)
of the peacock on which I ride.' Having said this, that god himself
in visible form revealed to me that new and short grammar, [99] and
then added this besides; 'That king of thine in a former birth was
himself a holy sage, a pupil of the hermit Bharadvája, named Krishna,
great in austerity: and he, having beheld a hermit's daughter who
loved him in return, suddenly felt the smart of the wound which the
shaft of the flowery-arrowed god inflicts. So, having been cursed
by the hermits, he has now become incarnate here, and that hermit's
daughter has become incarnate as his queen.
So this king Sátaváhana, being an incarnation of a holy sage, [100]
when he beholds thee, will attain a knowledge of all the sciences
according to thy wish. For the highest matters are easily acquired by
great-souled ones, having been learnt in a former birth, the real truth
of them being recalled by their powerful memories.' [101] When the
god had said this, he disappeared, and I went out, and there grains
of rice were presented me by the god's servants. Then I proceeded to
return, O king, and wonderful to say, though I consumed those grains
on my journey day after day, they remained as numerous as ever." When
he had related his adventure, Sarvavarman ceased speaking, and king
Sátaváhana in cheerful mood rose up and went to bathe.
Then I, being excluded from business by my vow of silence, took leave,
with a low bow only, of that king who was very averse to part with me,
and went out of that town, accompanied by only two disciples, and,
with my mind bent on the performance of austerities, came to visit the
shrine of the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and having been directed
by the goddess in a dream to visit thee, I entered for that purpose
this terrible Vindhya forest. A hint given by a Pulinda enabled me
to find a caravan, and so somehow or other, by the special favour of
destiny, I managed to arrive here, and beheld this host of Pisáchas,
and by hearing from a distance their conversation with one another,
I have contrived to learn this Paisácha language, which has enabled
me to break my vow of silence; I then made use of it to ask after
you, and, hearing that you had gone to Ujjayiní, I waited here until
your return; on beholding you I welcomed you in the fourth language,
(the speech of the Pisáchas), and then I called to mind my origin;
this is the story of my adventures in this birth.
When Gunádhya had said this, Kánabhúti said to him,--"hear, how your
arrival was made known to me last night. I have a friend, a Rákshasa
of the name of Bhútivarman, who possesses heavenly insight; and I went
to a garden in Ujjayiní, where he resides. On my asking him when my
own curse would come to an end, he said, we have no power in the day,
wait, and I will tell you at night. I consented and when night came
on, I asked him earnestly the reason why goblins [102] delighted in
disporting themselves then, as they were doing. Then Bhútivarman said
to me, 'Listen, I will relate what I heard Siva say in a conversation
with Brahmá. Rákshasas, Yakshas, and Pisáchas have no power in the day,
being dazed with the brightness of the sun, therefore they delight in
the night. And where the gods are not worshipped, and the Bráhmans,
in due form, and where men eat contrary to the holy law, there also
they have power. Where there is a man who abstains from flesh, or a
virtuous woman, there they do not go. They never attack chaste men,
heroes, and men awake.' [103] When he said this on that occasion
Bhútivarman continued, 'Go, for Gunádhya has arrived, the destined
means of thy release from the curse.' So hearing this, I have come,
and I have seen thee, my lord; now I will relate to thee that tale
which Pushpadanta told; but I feel curiosity on one point; tell me
why he was called Pushpadanta and thou Mályaván."
Story of Pushpadanta.
Hearing this question from Kánabhúti, Gunádhya said to him. On the bank
of the Ganges there is a district granted to Bráhmans by royal charter,
named Bahusuvarnaka, and there lived there a very learned Bráhman
named Govindadatta, and he had a wife Agnidattá who was devoted to her
husband. In course of time that Bráhman had five sons by her. And they,
being handsome but stupid, grew up insolent fellows. Then a guest came
to the house of Govindadatta, a Bráhman Vaisvánara by name, like a
second god of fire. [104] As Govindadatta was away from home when he
arrived, he came and saluted his sons, and they only responded to his
salute with a laugh; then that Bráhman in a rage prepared to depart
from his house. While he was in this state of wrath Govindadatta came,
and asked the cause, and did his best to appease him, but the excellent
Bráhman nevertheless spoke as follows--"Your sons have become outcasts,
as being blockheads, and you have lost caste by associating with them,
therefore I will not eat in your house; if I did so, I should not be
able to purify myself by any expiatory ceremony." Then Govindadatta
said to him with an oath, "I will never even touch these wicked sons
of mine." His hospitable wife also came and said the same to her
guest; then Vaisvánara was with difficulty induced to accept their
hospitality. One of Govindadatta's sons, named Devadatta, when he saw
that, was grieved at his father's sternness, and thinking a life of
no value which was thus branded by his parents, went in a state of
despondency to the hermitage of Badariká to perform penance; there
he first ate leaves, and afterwards he fed only on smoke, persevering
in a long course of austerities in order to propitiate the husband of
Umá [105]. So Sambhu, won over by his severe austerities, manifested
himself to him, and he craved a boon from the god, that he might
ever attend upon him. Sambhu thus commanded him--"Acquire learning,
and enjoy pleasures on the earth, and after that thou shalt attain
all thy desire." Then he, eager for learning, went to the city of
Pátaliputra, and according to custom waited on an instructor named
Vedakumbha. When he was there, the wife of his preceptor distracted
by passion, which had arisen in her heart, made violent love to him;
alas! the fancies of women are ever inconstant! Accordingly Devadatta
left that place, as his studies had been thus interfered with by the
god of love, and went to Pratishthána with unwearied zeal. There he
repaired to an old preceptor named Mantrasvámin, with an old wife,
and acquired a perfect knowledge of the sciences. And after he had
acquired learning, the daughter of the king Susarman, Srí by name,
cast eyes upon the handsome youth, as the goddess Srí upon Vishnu. He
also beheld that maiden at a window, looking like the presiding goddess
of the moon, roaming through the air in a magic chariot. Those two
were, as it were, fastened together by that look which was the chain
of love, and were unable to separate. The king's daughter made him
a sign to come near with one finger, looking like Love's command in
fleshly form. Then he came near her, and she came out of the women's
apartments, and took with her teeth a flower and threw it down to
him. He, not understanding this mysterious sign made by the princess,
puzzled as to what he ought to do, went home to his preceptor. There he
rolled on the ground unable to utter a word, being consumed within with
burning pain, like one dumb and distracted; his wise preceptor guessing
what was the matter by these love-symptoms, artfully questioned
him, and at last he was with difficulty persuaded to tell the whole
story. Then the clever preceptor guessed the riddle, and said to him,
[106] "By letting drop a flower with her tooth she made a sign to you,
that you were to go to this temple rich in flowers called Pushpadanta,
and wait there: so you had better go now." When he heard this and knew
the meaning of the sign, the youth forgot his grief. Then he went into
that temple and remained there. The princess on her part also went
there, giving as an excuse that it was the eighth day of the month,
and then entered the inner shrine in order to present herself alone
before the god; then she touched her lover who was behind the panel
of the door, and he suddenly springing up threw his arms round her
neck. She exclaimed, "this is strange; how did you guess the meaning
of that sign of mine?" He replied, "it was my preceptor that found
it out, not I." Then the princess flew into a passion and said, "Let
me go, you are a dolt," and immediately rushed out of the temple,
fearing that her secret would be discovered. Devadatta on his part
went away, and thinking in solitude on his beloved, who was no sooner
seen than lost to his eyes, was in such a state that the taper of
his life was well nigh melted away in the fire of bereavement. Siva,
who had been before propitiated by him, commanded an attendant of
his, of the name of Panchasikha, to procure for him the desire of
his heart. That excellent Gana thereupon came, and consoled him,
and caused him to assume the dress of a woman, and he himself wore
the semblance of an aged Bráhman. Then that worthy Gana went with him
to king Susarman the father of that bright-eyed one, and said to him;
"My son has been sent away somewhere, I go to seek him: accordingly
I deposit with thee this daughter-in-law of mine, keep her safely,
O king." Hearing that, king Susarman afraid of a Bráhman's curse,
took the young man and placed him in his daughter's guarded seraglio,
supposing him to be a woman. Then after the departure of Panchasikha,
the Bráhman dwelt in woman's clothes in the seraglio of his beloved,
and became her trusted confidante. Once on a time the princess was
full of regretful longing at night, so he discovered himself to her
and secretly married her by the Gándharva form of marriage. And when
she became pregnant, that excellent Gana came on his thinking of him
only, and carried him away at night without its being perceived. Then
he quickly rent off from the young man his woman's dress, and in the
morning Panchasikha resumed the semblance of a Bráhman; and going
with the young man to the king Susarman he said; "O king, I have
this day found my son: so give me back my daughter-in-law." Then
the king, supposing that she had fled somewhere at night, alarmed
at the prospect of being cursed by the Bráhman, said this to his
ministers. "This is no Bráhman, this is some god come to deceive me,
for such things often happen in this world.
Story of king Sivi.
So in former times there was a king named Sivi, self-denying,
compassionate, generous, resolute, the protector of all creatures;
and in order to beguile him Indra assumed the shape of a hawk,
and swiftly pursued Dharma, [107] who by magic had transformed
himself into a dove. The dove in terror went and took refuge in the
bosom of Sivi. Then the hawk addressed the king with a human voice;
'O king, this is my natural food, surrender the dove to me, for I
am hungry. Know that my death will immediately follow if you refuse
my prayer; in that case where will be your righteousness?' Then Sivi
said to the god,--'this creature has fled to me for protection, and I
cannot abandon it, therefore I will give you an equal weight of some
other kind of flesh.' The hawk said, 'if this be so, then give me your
own flesh.' The king, delighted, consented to do so. But as fast as
he cut off his flesh and threw it on the scale, the dove seemed to
weigh more and more in the balance. Then the king threw his whole
body on to the scale, and thereupon a celestial voice was heard,
'Well done! this is equal in weight to the dove.' Then Indra and
Dharma abandoned the form of hawk and dove, and being highly pleased
restored the body of king Sivi whole as before, and, after bestowing
on him many other blessings, they both disappeared. In the same way
this Bráhman is some god that has come to prove me." [108]
Having said this to his ministers, that king Susarman of his own
motion said to that excellent Gana that had assumed the form of
a Bráhman, prostrating himself before him in fear, "Spare me; that
daughter-in-law of thine was carried off last night. She has been taken
somewhere or other by magic arts, though guarded night and day." Then
the Gana, who had assumed the Bráhman's semblance, pretending to be
with difficulty won over to pity him, said, "If this be so, king,
give thy daughter in marriage to my son." When he heard this, the
king afraid of being cursed, gave his own daughter to Devadatta: then
Panchasikha departed. Then Devadatta having recovered his beloved,
and that in an open manner, flourished in the power and splendour
of his father-in-law who had no son but him. And in course of time
Susarman anointed the son of his daughter by Devadatta, Mahídhara
by name, as successor in his room, and retired to the forest. Then
having seen the prosperity of his son, Devadatta considered that he
had attained all his objects, and he too with the princess retired to
the forest. There he again propitiated Siva, and having laid aside
his mortal body, by the special favour of the god he attained the
position of a Gana. Because he did not understand the sign given by
the flower dropped from the tooth of his beloved, therefore he became
known by the name of Pushpadanta in the assembly of the Ganas. And
his wife became a door-keeper in the house of the goddess, under the
name of Jayá: this is how he came to be called Pushpadanta: now hear
the origin of my name.
Long ago I was a son of that same Bráhman called Govindadatta
the father of Devadatta, and my name was Somadatta. I left my home
indignant for the same reason as Devadatta, and I performed austerities
on the Himálaya continually striving to propitiate Siva with offerings
of many garlands. The god of the moony crest, being pleased, revealed
himself to me in the same way as he did to my brother, and I chose
the privilege of attending upon him as a Gana, not being desirous
of lower pleasures. The husband of the daughter of the mountain,
that mighty god, thus addressed me; "Because I have been worshipped
by thee with garlands of flowers growing in trackless forest-regions,
brought with thy own hand, therefore thou shalt be one of my Ganas,
and shalt bear the name of Mályaván." Then I cast off my mortal frame,
and immediately attained the holy state of an attendant on the god. And
so my name of Mályaván was bestowed upon me by him who wears the burden
of the matted locks, [109] as a mark of his special favour. And I,
that very Mályaván, have once more, O Kánabhúti, been degraded to the
state of a mortal, as thou seest, owing to the curse of the daughter
of the mountain, therefore do thou now tell me the tale told by Siva,
in order that the state of curse of both of us may cease.
NOTE TO CHAPTER VII.
"Rákshasas, Yakshas, and Pisáchas have no power in the day, being dazed
with the brightness of the sun therefore they delight in the night."
Farmer commenting on Hamlet, Act I, Sc. I, 150, quotes the following
lines of Prudentius Ad Gallicinium. Ferunt vagantes dæmonas,
Lætos tenebris noctium, Gallo canente exterritos, Sparsim timere
et cedere. Hoc esse signum præscii Norunt repromissæ spei, Qua nos
soporis liberi Speramus adventum Dei. Douce quotes from another hymn
said to have been composed by Saint Ambrose and formerly used in the
Salisbury service. Præco dici jam sonat, Noctis profundæ pervigil;
Nocturna lux viantibus, A nocte noctem segregans. Hoc excitatus
Lucifer Solvit polum caligine; Hoc omnis errorum cohors Viam nocendi
deserit. Gallo canente spes redit &c.
See also Grössler's Sagen der Grafschaft Mansfeld, pp. 58 and 59;
the Pentamerone of Basile, translated by Liebrecht, Vol. I, p. 251;
Dasent's Norse Tales, p. 347, "The Troll turned round, and, of course,
as soon as he saw the sun, he burst;" Grimm's Irische Märchen,
p. x; Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, p. 63; Schöppner's Sagenbuch der
Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, pp. 123, and 228; and Bernhard Schmidt's
Griechische Märchen, p. 138. He quotes the following interesting
passage from the Philopseudes of Lucian, Synên achri dê alektryonôn
êkousamen adontôn tote dê hê te Selênê aneptato eis ton ouranon kai
hê Hekatê edy kata tês gês, kai ta alla phasmata êphanisthê, &c.
CHAPTER VIII.