The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
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.