The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
the hermit, seeing that it was not in the hut, thought--"She is in
the habit, when she goes to bathe, of leaving her child behind her,
so what has become of the child? Surely it has been carried off by a
wild beast. I will create another, otherwise Sítá, on returning from
bathing, will die of grief." Under this impression, the hermit made
a pure babe of kusa grass, resembling Lava, and placed him there,
and Sítá came, and seeing it, said to the hermit, "I have my own boy,
so whence came this one, hermit?" When the hermit Válmíki heard this,
he told her exactly what had taken place, and said, "Blameless one,
receive this second son named Kusa, because I by my power created him
out of kusa grass." When he said this to her, Sítá brought up those
two sons Kusa and Lava, for whom Válmíki performed the sacraments. And
those two young princes of the Kshatriya race, even when children,
learned the use of all heavenly weapons, and all sciences from the
hermit Válmíki.
And one day they killed a deer belonging to the hermitage, and ate
its flesh, and made use of a linga, which Válmíki worshipped, as a
plaything. The hermit was offended thereby, but at Sítá's intercession
he appointed for those youths the following expiatory penance:
"Let this Lava go quickly and bring from the lake of Kuvera golden
lotuses, and mandára [707] flowers from his garden, then worship,
both of you brothers, this linga with those flowers; in this way
this crime of those two will be atoned for." When Lava heard this,
he went, though a boy, to Kailása, and invaded that lake and garden
of Kuvera, and after killing the Yakshas, brought back the lotuses
and the flowers, and as he was returning, being tired, he rested in
the way under a tree. And in the meanwhile Lakshmana came that way,
seeking a man with auspicious marks for Ráma's human sacrifice. [708]
He, according to the custom of Kshatriyas, challenged Lava to fight,
and paralyzed him by the stupefying weapon, and taking him prisoner,
led him to the city of Ayodhyá. And in the meanwhile Válmíki comforted
Sítá, who was anxious about the return of Lava, and said to Kusa
in his hermitage, "Lakshmana has taken prisoner the child Lava and
has carried him off to Ayodhyá; go and deliver him from Lakshmana,
after conquering him with these weapons." When the sage said this,
and gave to Kusa a heavenly weapon, he went and with it attacked
and besieged the sacrificial enclosure in Ayodhyá, and he conquered
in fight Lakshmana, who advanced to repel him, by the help of those
heavenly weapons; then Ráma advanced to meet him; and when he could
not, though exerting himself to the utmost, conquer with weapons that
Kusa, owing to the might of Válmíki, he asked him who he was, and why
he came. Then Kusa said, "Lakshmana has taken my elder brother prisoner
and brought him here; I have come here to set him at liberty. We
two are Kusa and Lava the sons of Ráma, this is what our mother,
the daughter of Janaka, says." Thereupon he told her story. Then
Ráma burst into tears, and summoned Lava and embraced both, saying,
"I am that same wicked Ráma." Then the citizens assembled and praised
Sítá, beholding those two heroic youths, and Ráma recognised them as
his sons. And then he summoned the queen Sítá from the hermitage of
Válmíki, and dwelt with her in happiness, transferring to his sons
the burden of the empire.
"Thus heroic souls endure separation for so long a time, and how
can you find it difficult to endure it for only one night?" When
Kánchanaprabhá had said this to her daughter Alankáravatí, who was
eager to be married, and to Naraváhanadatta, she departed through
the air with the intention of returning again, and took her daughter
with her: and Naraváhanadatta, for his part, returned despondent to
Kausámbí.
Then, as he could not sleep at night, Gomukha said to him to amuse
him--"Prince, hear this story of Prithvírúpa, which I will relate
to you."
Story of the handsome king Prithvírúpa.
There is in the Dekhan a city named Pratishthána, in it lived a very
handsome king, named Prithvírúpa. Once on a time two discerning
Buddhist hermits came to him, and seeing that that king was very
handsome, they said to him, "King, we have travelled through the
world, and we have nowhere seen a man or woman equal to you in beauty,
except the daughter of king Rúpadhara and queen Hemalatá, in the isle
of Muktipura, Rúpalatá by name, and that maiden alone is a match for
you, and you alone are a match for her; if you were to be united in
marriage, it would be well." With these words of the hermit, which
entered by his ears, the arrows of Love entered also and stuck in
his heart. Then king Prithvírúpa, being full of longing, gave this
order to his admirable painter, Kumáridatta by name; "Take with you my
portrait, accurately painted on canvas, and with these two mendicants
go to the isle of Muktipura, and there shew it by some artifice to
the king Rúpadhara and his daughter Rúpalatá. Find out if that king
will give me his daughter or not, and take a likeness of Rúpalatá,
and bring it back." When the king had said this, he made the painter
take his likeness on canvas, and sent him with the mendicants to that
island. And so the painter and the mendicants set out, and in course
of time reached a city named Putrapura on the shore of the sea. There
they embarked on a ship, and going across the sea, they reached in
five days that island of Muktipura. There the painter went and held
up at the gate of the palace a notice, to the effect that there was
no painter like him in the world. When the king Rúpadhara heard of
that, he summoned him, and the painter entered the palace, and bowing,
he said: "O king, though I have travelled all over the earth, I have
never seen my match as a painter, so tell me, whom I am to paint of
gods, mortals, and Asuras." When the king heard that, he summoned his
daughter Rúpalatá into his presence, and gave him the following order:
"Make a portrait of this daughter of mine, and shew it me." Then the
painter Kumáridatta made a portrait of the princess on canvas and
shewed it, and it was exactly like the original. Then king Rúpadhara
was pleased, and thinking him clever, he asked that painter, in his
desire to obtain a son-in-law, "My good fellow, you have travelled
over the earth: so tell me if you have anywhere seen a woman or a
man equal to my daughter in beauty." When the king said this, the
painter answered him, "I have nowhere in the world seen a woman or a
man equal to her, except a king in Pratishthána, named Prithvírúpa,
who is a match for her; if she were married to him, it would be
well. Since he has not found a princess equal in beauty, he remains,
though in his fresh youth, without a wife. And I, your majesty, having
beheld that king, dear to the eyes, took a faithful likeness of him,
out of admiration of his beauty." When the king heard that, he said:
"Have you that portrait with you?" And the painter said, "I have,"
and showed the portrait. Thereupon the king Rúpadhara, beholding
the beauty of that king Prithvírúpa, found his head whirl round
with astonishment. And he said, "Fortunate are we to have beheld
that king even in a picture; I felicitate those who behold him in
the flesh. When Rúpalatá heard this speech of her father's, and saw
the king in the picture, she was full of longing, and could neither
hear nor see anything else. Then the king Rúpadhara, seeing that his
daughter was distracted with love, said to that painter Kumáridatta,
"Your pictures exactly correspond to the original, so that king
Prithvírúpa must be an appropriate husband for my daughter. So take
this portrait of my daughter, and set off immediately, and shew
my daughter to king Prithvírúpa; and tell the whole incident as it
took place, and if he pleases, let him come here quickly, to marry
her." Thus the king spake, and honoured the painter with gifts,
and sent him off with his ambassador, in the company of the mendicants.
The painter, the ambassador, and the mendicants crossed the sea,
and all reached the court of Prithvírúpa in Pratishthána. There they
gave the present to that king, and told him the whole transaction,
as it took place, and the message of Rúpadhara. And then that painter
Kumáridatta shewed to that king his beloved Rúpalatá in a painting. As
the king gazed, [709] his eye was drowned in that sea of beauty
her person, so that he could not draw it out again. For the king,
whose longing was excessive, could not be satisfied with devouring
her form, which poured forth a stream of the nectar of beauty, as
the partridge cannot be satisfied with devouring the moonlight. And
he said to the painter, "My friend, worthy of praise is the Creator
who made this beauty, and yourself who copied it. So I accept the
proposal of king Rúpadhara; I will go to the island of Muktipura and
marry his daughter." After saying this, the king honoured the painter,
the ambassador, and the hermits, and remained looking at the picture.
And afflicted with the sorrow of absence, the king spent that day in
gardens and other places, and set out the next day on his expedition,
after ascertaining a favourable moment. And the king mounted the
great elephant Mangalaghata, and proceeded on his way with many horses
and elephants, with chiefs and Rájpúts, and with the painter and the
hermits, together with the ambassador of Rúpadhara, and in a few days
he reached the entrance of the Vindhya forest, and encamped there in
the evening. The next day, the king Prithvírúpa mounted an elephant
named Satrumardana, and going on entered that forest. And as he was
slowly proceeding, he beheld his army, which was marching in front
of him, suddenly fleeing. And while he was perplexed as to what it
could mean, a Rájpút named Nirbhaya, mounted on an elephant, came up
and said to him, "King, a very large army of Bhillas attacked us in
front there; in the fight that ensued those Bhillas slew with their
arrows just fifty of our elephants, and a thousand of our footmen, and
three hundred horses; but our troops laid low two thousand Bhillas,
so that for every single corpse seen in our host two were seen in
theirs. Then our forces were routed, galled with their arrows, which
resemble thunderbolts." When the king heard that, he was angry, and
advancing he slew the army of the Bhillas, as Arjuna slew that of
the Kauravas. Then the other bandits were slain by Nirbhaya and his
comrades, [710] and the king cut off with one crescent-headed arrow the
head of the commander of the Bhillas. The king's elephant Satrumardana,
with the blood flowing from arrow-wounds, resembled a mountain of
collyrium pouring forth streams coloured with cinnabar. Then his
whole army, that had been dispersed, returned, finding themselves
victorious, and those Bhillas, that had escaped slaughter, fled in
all directions. And the king Prithvírúpa, having brought the fight
to an end, had his might extolled by the ambassador of Rúpadhara,
and being victorious, encamped in that very forest district, on the
bank of a lake, to recruit the strength of his wounded troops.
And in the morning the king set out thence, and slowly advancing
he reached that city of Putrapura on the shore of the sea. There he
rested for a day, being entertained in becoming fashion by the king
of that place, named Udáracharita. And he crossed the sea in ships
supplied by him, and in eight days reached the isle of Muktipura.
And the king Rúpadhara, hearing of it, came to meet him delighted, and
the two kings met and embraced one another. Then the king Prithvírúpa
entered his city with him, being, so to speak, drunk in by the eyes of
the ladies of the city. Then the queen Hemalatá and the king Rúpadhara,
seeing that he was a suitable husband for their daughter, rejoiced. And