The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
fortunes mentioned by the goddess, when she appeared to him on a
former occasion, [755] while he was engaged in austerities, the
good fortune of enjoyment, and the goddess granted it to him. Then
Yasovarman returned home and lived in happiness, thanks to the good
fortune of enjoyment, which, owing to the favour of the goddess,
continually presented itself to him unthought of.
"So a smaller fortune, accompanied with enjoyment, is to be preferred
to a great fortune, which, though great, is devoid of enjoyment and
therefore useless. So why are you annoyed at the good fortune of king
Chamarabála, which is combined with meanness, and do not consider your
own fortune, which is rich in the power of giving and in enjoyment?
"So an attack on him by you is not advisable, and there is no
auspicious moment for commencing the expedition, and I do not foresee
victory to you." Though those five kings were thus warned by the
astrologer, they marched in their impatience against king Chamarabála.
And when king Chamarabála heard that they had reached the border,
he bathed in the morning, and worshipped Siva duly by his auspicious
names referring to sixty-eight excellent parts of the body, [756]--his
names that destroy sin and grant all desires. And then he heard
a voice coming from heaven, "King, fight without fear, thou shalt
conquer thy enemies in battle." Then king Chamarabála was delighted,
and girded on his armour, and accompanied by his army, marched out to
fight with those foes. In the army of his enemies there were thirty
thousand elephants, and three hundred thousand horses, and ten million
foot-soldiers. And in his own army there were twenty hundred thousand
foot-soldiers, and ten thousand elephants, and a hundred thousand
horses. Then a great battle took place between those two armies,
and king Chamarabála, preceded by his warder Víra, [757] who was
rightly so named, entered that field of battle, as the holy Vishnu,
in the form of the great boar, entered the great ocean. And though he
had but a small army, he so grievously smote that great army of his
foes, that slain horses, elephants, and footmen lay in heaps. And when
king Samarabála came across him in the battle, he rushed upon him,
and smote him with an iron spear, and drawing him towards him with a
lasso, made him prisoner. And then in the same way he smote the second
king Samarasúra in the heart with an arrow, and drawing him towards
him with a noose, made him also prisoner. And his warder, named Víra,
captured the third king, named Samarajita, and brought him to him. And
his general, named Devabala, brought and presented to him the fourth
king, named Pratápachandra, wounded with an arrow. Then the fifth king
Pratápasena, beholding that, fell furiously upon king Chamarabála in
the fight. But he repelled his arrows with the multitude of his own,
and pierced him with three arrows in the forehead. And when he was
bewildered with the blows of the arrows, Chamarabála, like a second
Destiny, flung a noose round his neck, and dragging him along made him
a captive. When those five kings had in this way been taken prisoners
in succession, as many of their soldiers, as had escaped slaughter,
fled, dispersing themselves in every direction. And king Chamarabála
captured an infinite mass of gold and jewels, and many wives belonging
to those kings. And among them, the head queen of king Pratápasena,
called Yasolekhá, a lovely woman, fell into his hands.
Then he entered his city, and gave turbans of honour to the warder Víra
and the general Devabala, and loaded them with jewels. And the king
made Yasolekhá an inmate of his own harem, on the ground that she,
being the wife of Pratápasena, was captured according to the custom
of the Kshatriyas. And she, though flighty, submitted to him because
he had won her by the might of his arm; in those abandoned to the
intoxication of love the impressions of virtue are evanescent. And
after some days, king Chamarabála, being solicited by the queen
Yasolekhá, let go those five captive kings, Pratápasena and the others,
after they had learnt submission and done homage, and after honouring
them, dismissed them to their own kingdoms. And then king Chamarabála
long ruled his own wealthy kingdom, in which there were no opponents,
and the enemies of which had been conquered, and he sported with that
Yasolekhá, who surpassed in form and loveliness beautiful Apsarases,
being, as it were, the banner that announced his victory over his foes.
"Thus a brave man, though unsupported, conquers in the front of battle
even many enemies coming against him in fight, distracted with hate,
and not considering the resources of themselves and their foe, and
by his surpassing bravery puts a stop to the fever of their conceit
and pride."
When Naraváhanadatta had heard this instructive tale told by Gomukha,
he praised it, and set about his daily duties of bathing and so on. And
he spent that night, which was devoted to the amusement of a concert,
in singing with his wives in such a ravishing way, that Sarasvatí from
her seat in heaven gave him and his beloved ones high commendation.
CHAPTER LV.
Then, the next day, as Naraváhanadatta was sitting in the apartments
of Alankáravatí, a servant of Marubhúti's, the brother of Sauvidalla
the guard of the prince's harem, came and said to him in the presence
of all his ministers--"King, I have attended on Marubhúti for two
years; he has given food and clothing to me and my wife: but he
will not give me the fifty dínárs a year, which he promised me in
addition. And when I asked him for it, he gave me a kick. So I am
sitting in dharna against him at your Highness's door. If your Highness
does not give judgment in this case, I shall enter the fire. What
more can I say? For you are my sovereign." When he had said this,
he stopped, and Marubhúti said--"I must give him the dínárs, but
I have not got the money at present." When he said this, all the
ministers laughed at him, and Naraváhanadatta said to the minister
Marubhúti: "What are you thinking about, you fool? Your intentions
are not over-creditable. Rise up, give him the hundred dínárs without
delay." When Marubhúti heard this speech of his sovereign's, he was
ashamed, and immediately brought that hundred dínárs and gave it to
him. Then Gomukha said--"Marubhúti is not to be blamed, because the
works of the Creator's hand have varying moods of mind. Have you not
heard the story of king Chiradátri, and his servant named Prasanga?"
Story of Chiradátri.
In old time there was a king named Chiradátri, sovereign or
Chirapura. Though he was an excellent man, his followers were extremely
wicked. And that king had a servant, named Prasanga, who had come
from another country, and was accompanied by two friends. And five
years passed, while he was performing his duties, but the king gave
him nothing, not even when an occasion was presented by a feast or
something of the kind. And owing to the wickedness of the courtiers,
he never obtained an opportunity of representing his case to the king,
though his friends were continually instigating him to do so.
Now one day the king's infant son died, and when he was grieved at
it, all his servants came and crowded round him. And among them the
servant, named Prasanga, out of pure sorrow, said to the king as
follows, though his two friends tried to prevent him, "We have been
your servants, your Highness, for a long time, and you have never
given us anything, nevertheless we have remained here because we had
hopes from your son; for we thought that, although you have never
given us anything, your son would certainly give us something. If
Fate has carried him off, what is the use of remaining here now? We
will immediately take our departure." Thus he exclaimed, and fell
at the feet of the king, and went out with his two friends. The
king reflected--"Ah! though these men had fixed their hopes on my
son, they have been faithful servants to me, so I must not abandon
them." Thereupon he immediately had Prasanga and his companions
summoned, and loaded them so with wealth that poverty did not again
lay hold on them.
"So you see, men have various dispositions, for that king did not
give at the proper season, but did give in the unseasonable hour of
calamity." When Gomukha, skilful in story-telling, had said this,
he went on, at the instigation of the son of the sovereign of Vatsa,
to tell the following tale:
Story of king Kanakavarsha and Madanasundarí.
There was in old time on the banks of the Ganges an excellent city,
named Kanakapura, the people of which were purified in the water
of the river; and which was a delightful place on account of its
good government. In this city the only imprisonment seen was the
committing to paper of the words of poets, the only kind of defeat
was the curling in the locks of the women, the only contest was the
struggle of getting the corn into the granary. [758]
In that city there dwelt in old time a glorious king, named
Kanakavarsha, who was born to Priyadarsana, the son of Vásuki,
king of the snakes, by the princess Yasodhará. Though he bore the
weight of the whole earth, he was adorned with innumerable virtues,
he longed for glory, not for wealth, he feared sin, not his enemy. He
was dull in slandering his neighbour, but not in the holy treatises;
there was restraint in the high-souled hero's wrath, not in his favour;
he was resolute-minded; he was niggardly in curses, not in gifts; he
ruled the whole world; and such was his extraordinary beauty that all
women, the moment they saw him, were distracted with the pain of love.
Once on a time, in an autumn, that was characterized by heat, that
maddened elephants, that was attended by flocks of swans, and delighted
the subjects with rejoicings, [759] he entered a picture-palace which
was cooled by winds that blew laden with the scent of lotuses. There
he observed and praised the display of pictures, and in the meanwhile
there entered the warder, who said to the king--
"Your majesty, an unequalled painter has arrived here from Ujjayiní,
boasting himself to be matchless in the art of painting. His name
is Roladeva, and he has to-day set up a notice at the palace gate to
the above effect." When the king heard that, he felt respect for him,
and ordered him to be introduced, and the warder immediately went and
brought him in. The painter entered, and beheld the king Kanakavarsha
amusing himself in private with looking at pictures, reclining his
body on the lap of beautiful women, and taking in carelessly crooked
fingers the prepared betel. And the painter Roladeva made obeisance
to the king, who received him politely, and sitting down said slowly
to him--"O king, I put up a notice principally through the desire of
beholding your feet, not out of pride in my skill, so you must excuse
this deed of mine. And you must tell me what form I am to represent
on canvas, let not the trouble I took in learning this accomplishment
be thrown away, O king." When the painter said this to the king,
he replied, "Teacher, paint anything you will, let us give our eyes
a treat: what doubt can there be about your skill?"
When the king said this, his courtiers exclaimed--"Paint the king:
what is the use of painting others, ugly in comparison with him?" When
the painter heard this, he was pleased, and painted the king, with
aquiline nose, with almond-shaped fiery eye, with broad forehead, with
curly black hair, with ample breast, glorious with the scars of wounds
inflicted by arrows and other weapons, with handsome arms resembling
the trunks of the elephants that support the quarters, with waist
capable of being spanned with the hand, as if it had been a present
from the lion-whelps conquered by his might, and with thighs like the