The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
his merit in a former life must have been slight, since he does not
know that my favour is never barren of results. And so these splendid
jewels come back to me again and again." Thus the king reflected,
and he took that citron, and put it away safely, and rose up and
performed the duties of the day. And on the fourth day the king held
an assembly in the same way, and it was filled with all his subjects,
feudatories, ministers and all. And the dependent came there again,
and again the king made him sit in front of him, and when he bowed
before him, the king made him recite the Áryá verse: and gave him the
citron, and when the dependent had half got hold of it, he suddenly
let it go, and the citron fell on the ground and broke in half. And
as the joining of the citron, which kept it together, was broken,
there rolled out of it many valuable jewels, illuminating that place
of assembly. All the people, when they saw it, said, "Ah! we were
deluded and mistaken, as we did not know the real state of the case,
but such is the nature of the king's favour." When the king heard
that, he said--"By this artifice I endeavoured to ascertain, whether
Fortune would now look on him or not. But for three days his guilt
was not effaced; now it is effaced, and for that reason Fortune has
now granted him a sight of herself." After the king had said this,
he gave the dependent those jewels, and also villages, elephants,
horses and gold, and made him a feudal chief. And he rose up from
that assembly, in which the people applauded, and went to bathe; and
that dependent too, having obtained his ends, went to his own dwelling.
So true is it that, until a servant's guilt is effaced, he cannot
obtain the favour of his master; even by going through hundreds
of hardships.
When Gomukha the prime-minister had told this tale, he again said to
his master Naraváhanadatta; "So, king, I know that even now the guilt
of that dependent of yours is not expiated, since even now you are
not pleased with him." When the son of the king of Vatsa heard this
speech of Gomukha's, he said, "Ha! good!" and he immediately gave
to his own dependent, who was named Kárpatika, a number of villages,
elephants and horses, a crore of gold pieces, and excellent garments,
and ornaments. Then that dependent, who had attained prosperity,
became like a king; how can the attendance on a grateful king, who
has excellent courtiers, be void of fruit.
When Naraváhanadatta was thus employed, there came one day,
to take service with him, a young Bráhman from the Dekhan, named
Pralambabáhu. That hero said to the prince: "I have come to your feet,
my sovereign, attracted by your renown; and I on foot will never
leave your company for a step, as long as you travel on the earth
with elephants, horses, and chariots; but in the air I cannot go; I
say this because it is rumoured that my lord will one day be emperor
of the Vidyádharas. A hundred gold pieces should be given to me every
day as salary." When that Bráhman, who was really of incomparable
might, said this, Naraváhanadatta gave him this salary. And thereupon
Gomukha said--"My lord, kings have such servants: à propos of this,
hear this story."
Story of the Bráhman Víravara. [734]
There is in this country a great and splendid city of the name of
Vikramapura. In it there lived long ago a king named Vikramatunga. He
was distinguished for statesmanship, and though his sword was
sharp, his rod of justice was not so; and he was always intent on
righteousness, but not on women, hunting, and so forth. And while he
was king, the only atoms of wickedness were the atoms of earth in the
dust, the only departure from virtue was the loosing of arrows from
the string, the only straying from justice was the wandering of sheep
in the folds of the keepers of cattle. [735] Once on a time a heroic
and handsome Bráhman, from the country of Málava, named Víravara, came
there to take service under that king; he had a wife named Dharmavatí,
a daughter named Víravatí, and a son named Sattvavara; these three
constituted his family; and his attendants consisted of another three:
at his hip a dagger, in one hand a sword, and in the other a polished
shield. Though he had such a small following, he demanded from that
king five hundred dínárs every day by way of salary. And the king
gave him that salary, perceiving his courage, and thinking to himself,
"I will make trial of his excellence." And the king set spies on him,
to find out what this man, with only two arms, would do with so many
dínárs. And Víravara, every day, gave his wife a hundred of those
dínárs for food and other purposes; and with another hundred he bought
clothes, and garlands, and so on; and he appointed a third hundred,
after bathing, for the worship of Vishnu and Siva; and the remaining
two hundred he gave to Bráhmans, the poor and so on; and so he expended
every day the whole five hundred. And he stood at the palace-gate of
the king for the first half of the day, and after he had performed
his daily prayers and other duties, he came back and remained there
at night also. The spies reported to the king continually that daily
practice of his, and then the king, being satisfied, ordered those
spies to desist from observing him. And Víravara remained day and
night at the gate of the king's palace, sword in hand, excepting only
the time set apart for bathing and matters of that kind. Then there
came a collection of clouds, bellowing terribly, as if determined
to conquer that Víravara, being impatient of his valour. And then,
though the cloud rained a terrible arrow-shower of drops, Víravara
stood like a column and did not leave the palace-gate. And the king
Vikramatunga, having beheld him from the palace in this position,
went up to the roof of the palace at night to try him again. And he
called out from above--"Who waits at the palace-gate?" And Víravara,
when he heard that, answered--"I am here." The king hearing this,
thought--"Surely this brave man deserves high rank, for he does not
leave the palace-gate, though such a cloud is raining." While engaged
in these reflections, the king heard a woman weeping bitterly in
the distance; and he thought--"There is not an afflicted person in my
dominions, so why does she weep?" Thereupon he said to Víravara, "Hark,
Víravara, there is some woman weeping at some distance from this place,
so go, and find out who she is, and what is her sorrow." When Víravara
heard that, he set out, brandishing his sword, with his dagger at his
side. Then the king, seeing that he had set out when such a cloud was
blazing with lightning, and when the interval between heaven and earth
[736] was full of descending drops of rain, being moved with curiosity
and pity, came down from the roof of his palace, and set out behind
him, sword in hand, unobserved.
And Víravara, going in the direction of the wailing, [737] followed
unperceived by the king, reached a lake outside the city. And he saw
a woman lamenting in the midst of it; "Ah lord! Ah merciful one! Ah
hero! How shall I exist abandoned by thee?" He asked her; "Who are you,
and what lord do you lament?" Then she said; "My son, know that I am
this earth. At present Vikramatunga is my righteous lord, and his death
will certainly take place on the third day from now. And how shall I
obtain such a lord again? For with divine foresight I behold the good
and evil to come, as Suprabha, the son of a god, did, when in heaven."
Story of Suprabha.
For he, possessing divine foresight, foresaw that in seven days he
would fall from heaven on account of the exhaustion of his merits,
and be conceived in the body of a sow. Then that son of a god,
reflecting on the misery of dwelling in the body of a sow, regretted
with himself those heavenly enjoyments: "Alas for heaven! Alas for
the Apsarases! Alas for the arbours of Nandana! Alas! how shall I
live in the body of a sow, and after that in the mire?" When the
king of the gods heard him indulging in these lamentations, he came
to him, and questioned him, and that son of a god told him the cause
of his grief. Then Indra said to him, "Listen, there is a way out of
this difficulty open to you. Have recourse to Siva as a protector,
exclaiming 'Om! Honour to Siva!' If you resort to him as a protector,
you shall escape from your guilt and obtain merit, so that you shall
not be born in the body of a pig nor fall from heaven." When the
king of the gods said this to Suprabha, he followed his advice, and
exclaiming "Om! Honour to Siva!" he fled to Siva as an asylum. After
remaining wholly intent on him for six days, he not only by his favour
escaped being sent into the body of a pig, but went to an abode of
bliss higher than Svarga. And on the seventh day, when Indra, not
seeing him in heaven, looked about, he found he had gone to another
and a superior world.
"As Suprabha lamented, beholding pollution impending, so I lament,
beholding the impending death of the king." When Earth said this,
Víravara answered her:--"If there is any expedient for rescuing this
king, as there was an expedient for rescuing Suprabha in accordance
with the advice of Indra, pray tell it me." When Earth was thus
addressed by Víravara, she answered him: "There is an expedient in
this case, and it is in your hands." When the Bráhman Víravara heard
this, he said joyfully-- [738]
"Then tell me, goddess, quickly; if my lord can be benefited by
the sacrifice of my life, or of my son or wife, my birth is not
wasted." When Víravara said this, Earth answered him--"There is
here an image of Durgá near the palace; if you offer to that image
your son Sattvavara, then the king will live, but there is no other
expedient for saving his life." When the resolute Víravara heard
this speech of the goddess Earth, he said--"I will go, lady, and do
it immediately." And Earth said "What other man is so devoted to his
lord? Go, and prosper." And the king, who followed him, heard all.
Then Víravara went quickly to his house that night, and the king
followed him unobserved. There he woke up his wife Dharmavatí and told
her, that, by the counsel of the goddess Earth, he must offer up his
son for the sake of the king. She, when she heard it, said--"We must
certainly do what is for the advantage of the king; so wake up our son
and tell him." Then Víravara woke up his son, and told him all that
the goddess Earth had told him, as being for the interest of the king,
down to the necessity of his own sacrifice. When the child Sattvavara
heard this, he, being rightly named, said to his father, [739] "Am I
not fortunate, my father, in that my life can profit the king? I must
requite him for his food which I have eaten; so take me and sacrifice
me to the goddess for his sake." When the boy Sattvavara said this,
Víravara answered him undismayed, "In truth you are my own son." When
king Vikramatunga, who was standing outside, heard this, he said to
himself--"Ah! the members of this family are all equally brave."
Then Víravara took that son Sattvavara on his shoulder, and his wife
Dharmavatí took his daughter Víravatí on her back, and the two went
to the temple of Durgá by night.
And the king Vikramatunga followed them, carefully concealing
himself. When they reached the temple, Sattvavara was put down by
his father from his shoulder, and, though he was a boy, being a
store-house of courage, he bowed before the goddess, and addressed
this petition to her: "Goddess, may our lord's life be saved by the
offering of my head! And may the king Vikramatunga rule the earth
without an enemy to oppose him!" When the boy said this, Víravara
exclaimed, "Bravo! my son!" And drawing his sword, he cut off his
son's head, and offered it to the goddess Durgá, saying, "May the