I
Now, in the meanwhile, it happened, that when all the other Widyadhara
would-be bridegrooms had broken up and gone away in wrath, disgusted at
being turned to shame by Makarandika's rejection, there was one who went
away with a heart that was more than half broken, for Makarandika was
dearer to him than his own soul. And he would have given the three
worlds to have had the precious garland put round his own neck. And when
all was over, he took himself off, and remained a long while buried in
dejection on the slopes of the Snowy Mountain, pining like a
_chakrawaka_ at night-time for his mate, and striving to forget
her,--all in vain: for his name was Smaradasa,[29] and his nature like
his name. And at last, unable to endure the fiery torture of separation
any longer, he said to himself: I will return, on the pretext of paying
a visit to her father; and there, it may be, I shall at least get a
sight of her. And who knows but that she may change her mind? for women
after all are not like rocks, but skies. And at the thought, hope
suddenly arose, reborn in his heart. For disconsolate lovers are like
dry chips or straws, easily taking fire, and tossed here and there by
the gusts of hope and desperation.
[Footnote 29: i.e. _the slave of love, or recollection_.]
So as he thought, he did. But when he arrived at Mahidhara's home, and
inquired about her, he received an answer that struck him like a
thunderbolt. For Mahidhara said: As for Makarandika, she has utterly
disappeared, having gone somewhere or other, nobody knows where. And if,
as I conjecture, she is looking for a husband among mortals, who will
never even dream of any other woman than herself, she will not soon
return. For it will be long before she finds him.
And then, that unhappy Smaradasa said to himself: I will find her, no
matter how long it may take me, if at least she is able to be found. So
after meditating for a while, he went away to seek assistance from the
brother of the Dawn. And he said to him: O Garuda,[30] I am come to thee
for refuge. And it is but a little thing that I ask, and very easy, for
the Lord of all the birds of the air. There is a Widyadhari named
Makarandika, who is dearer to me than life itself. Help me, if thou
wilt, to discover where she is: for she has disappeared, without leaving
any trace.
[Footnote 30: The King of Birds. (The final _a_ is mute.)]
Thereupon Garuda said: Stay with me for a little in the meanwhile, till
I see what I can do. And he summoned all the sea-birds and the vultures
in the world; and said to them: Go to the eight quarters of heaven, and
find out what has become of Makarandika, a Widyadhari who is lost.
So then, after a few days, they returned. And their spokesman, who was a
very old vulture named Dirghadarshi,[31] said: Lord, this has been a
very simple thing. For some of my people saw her, a little while ago,
flying westwards. And following her track, on thy order, they saw her
sitting on the palace roof of King Arunodaya, who has married her, and
made her his queen.
[Footnote 31: i.e. _long-sighted_.]
And instantly, hearing this news, which pierced his ear like a poisoned
needle, Smaradasa uttered a loud cry, and fell down in a swoon: so great
was the shock, that turned in the twinkling of an eye all the love in
his soul to jealousy and hate. And when, with difficulty, he came to
himself, he hurried away so fast that he forgot even to worship Garuda.
But that kindly deity only laughed, and forgave him, saying: Well might
he forget not me only, but everything in the three worlds, on learning
that his love was lying in somebody else's arms.
But Smaradasa summoned instantly all his brother suitors. And he told
them all about it, and he said: This matter is no longer what it was.
For if she flouted us all, by refusing to choose a husband from among
us, yet no one could compel her, since she did but exercise the
privilege of all kings' daughters. But now, not only has she placed this
mortal above us all, but by marrying beneath her caste, she has degraded
all the Widyadharas at once, and broken the constitution of the
universe. Therefore she deserves to be punished. Moreover, she is at our
mercy, since she has lost all her magic sciences, by marrying a man.
So then, when they had all unanimously pronounced her worthy of death,
one suggesting one death, and another another, Smaradasa said
scornfully: What is the use of putting her to death? For death is
absolutely no punishment at all, since she will abandon one body only to
enter another. Rather let us find some punishment suited to her crime,
and worse than any death. And the best way would be, to contrive some
means of making her behaviour recoil upon her own head. And this could
be done, if only we could get this husband she has chosen to desert her
for another. For as a rule, a rival is like _kalakuta_ poison to every
woman: and she is not only jealous, but as it were jealousy itself. And
thus she would become her own punishment. But first let us discover all
about her: for then we can determine how to go to work.
So, when they all consented, Smaradasa went back to Garuda, and he said:
O Enemy of Snakes, do me one more favour, and I will trouble thee no
more. Find out for me only, how matters stand with her husband and
herself: since her independent conduct is a matter of concern to all the
Widyadharas, of whom she is one.
And Garuda said: Smaradasa, this commission is very different from the
first. For if I am not mistaken, the Widyadharas mean mischief, and it
is no business of mine. And yet, I will not do thee kindness by halves:
but let this be the last. So after meditating for a while, he sent for
the crows. And he said to them: Crows, you know everything about
everybody, and see the world, and fly about the streets of cities, and
eat the daily offerings,[32] and listen to all the scandal of the
bazaars, and penetrate even into the palaces of kings. Go, then, to the
city of Arunodaya, and spy about and listen, and bring back a full
account of all you can discover, about him and his wife.
[Footnote 32: _Balibuk, an eater of daily offerings_, is a common
epithet of the crow.]
And, after a week, the crows returned. And their spokesman, who was
called Kalapaksha,[33] said: Lord, this King and Queen are never apart,
being as inseparable as Ardhanari.[34] And as for Makarandika, it is
clear that she is a _patidewata_, who loves her husband more than her
own soul. And though he has nothing to do with any woman but herself,
yet something is wrong, though we cannot discover what it is. But the
citizens think that she is jealous, because she suspects that he is
always dreaming, not of her, but the wife of his former birth.
[Footnote 33: Meaning either _black-wings, the dark half of the lunar
month_, or _time-server_.]
[Footnote 34: The combined form of Maheshwara and his "other half."]
And as Smaradasa listened, he exclaimed in delight: Ha! what difficulty
is there in doing a thing which is half done already? For this is a
situation which will ripen almost without assistance, resembling as it
does a balance already trembling, in which the addition of a single hair
will turn the scale. And it wants only a touch, for Makarandika to turn
her suspicions into certainties of her own accord. And thus she will
become the instrument of her own torture, and expiate her error, the
victim of her own choice, with nobody but herself to blame. For she was
a Widyadhari, and is absolutely inexcusable.