The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
you, his ministers, and obtain his wife and his kingdom." When the
excellent hermit had thus instructed me, I recovered hope and left
that hermitage, and travelling along slowly I have met you here,
prince, to-day. So you may rest assured, prince, that you will recover
Prachandasakti, and your other ministers, and gain your object; you
certainly gained the favour of Ganesa by worshipping him before you
set out.
When Mrigánkadatta had listened for a while to this strange story of
Vimalabuddhi's, he was much pleased, and after he had again deliberated
with him, he set out for the city of Avanti, with the double object
of accomplishing his enterprise and recovering his other ministers.
CHAPTER LXXI.
Then, as Mrigánkadatta was journeying to Ujjayiní, with Srutadhi
and Vimalabuddhi, to find Sasánkavatí, he reached the Narmadá which
lay in his path. The fickle stream, when she beheld him, shook her
waves like twining arms, and gleamed white with laughing foam, as
if she were dancing and smiling because he had so fortunately been
reunited with his ministers. And when he had gone down into the bed
of the river to bathe, it happened that a king of the Savaras, named
Máyávatu, came there for the same purpose. When he had bathed, three
water-genii [187] rose up at the same time and seized the Bhilla,
whose retinue fled in terror. When Mrigánkadatta saw that, he went
into the water with his sword drawn, and killed those water-genii,
and delivered that king of the Bhillas. When the king of the Bhillas
was delivered from the danger of those monsters, he came up out of the
water and fell at the feet of the prince, and said to him,--"Who are
you, that Providence has brought here to save my life on the present
occasion? Of what virtuous father do you adorn the family? And what is
that country favoured by fortune to which you are going?" When he said
this, Srutadhi told him the prince's whole story from the beginning,
and then the Savara king shewed him exceeding respect, and said to him;
"Then I will be your ally in this undertaking which you have in view,
as you were directed by the god, and with me will come my friend
Durgapisácha the king of Mátangas. So do me the favour, my lord,
of coming to my palace, since I am your slave."
Thus he entreated Mrigánkadatta with various humble speeches, and
then took him to his own village. And there he entertained the prince
fittingly with all the luxuries he could command, and all the people
of the village shewed him respect. And the king of the Mátangas came
and honoured him as the saviour of his friend's life, and placed his
head on the ground to shew that he was his slave. Then Mrigánkadatta
remained there some days, to please that Máyávatu, the king of the
Bhillas.
And one day, while he was staying there, that king of the Savaras began
to gamble with Chandaketu his own warder. And while he was playing, the
clouds began to roar, and the domestic peacocks lifted up their heads
and began to dance, and king Máyávatu rose up to look at them. Then
the warder, who was an enthusiastic gambler, said to his sovereign,
"What is the use, my master, of looking at these peacocks which are
not skilled in dancing? I have a peacock in my house, to which you
would not find an equal in the world. I will show it you to-morrow,
if you take pleasure in such things." When the king heard that, he
said to the warder, "You must certainly shew it to me," and then he
set about the duties of the day. And Mrigánkadatta, when he heard all
that, rose up with his companions, and performed his duties such as
bathing and eating.
The adventures of Mrigánkadatta and the warder.
And when the night came, and thick darkness was diffused over the face
of things, the prince went out alone and self-impelled from the chamber
in which his companions were sleeping, in search of adventures, with
his body smeared with musk, wearing dark-blue garments and with his
sword in his hand. And as he was roaming about, a certain man, who was
coming along the road and did not see him on account of the darkness,
jostled against him, and struck his shoulder against his. Then he
rushed at him angrily and challenged him to fight. But the person
challenged, being a man not easily abashed, made an appropriate reply,
"Why are you perplexed by want of reflection? If you reflect, you will
see that you ought to blame the moon for not lighting up this night,
or the Governor of the world for not appointing that it should rule
with full sway here, [188] since in such darkness causeless quarrels
take place."
Mrigánkadatta was pleased with this clever answer and he said
to him, "You are right. Who are you?" The man answered, "I am a
thief." Whereupon the prince said falsely, "Give me your hand,
you are of the same profession as myself." And the prince made
an alliance with him, and went along with him out of curiosity,
and at last reached an old well covered with grass. And there the
man entered a tunnel, and Mrigánkadatta went along it with him,
and reached the harem of that king Máyávatu. And when he got there,
he recognized the man by the light of the lamp, and lo! it was the
warder Chandaketu, and not a robber. But the warder, who was the
secret paramour of the king's wife, did not recognize the prince,
because he had other garments on than those he usually wore, [189]
and kept in a corner where there was not much light.
But the moment the warder arrived, the king's wife, who was named
Manjumatí, and was desperately in love with him, rose up and threw her
arms round his neck. And she made him sit down on a sofa, and said to
him, "Who is this man that you have brought here to-day?" Then he said
to her, "Make your mind easy, it is a friend of mine." But Manjumatí
said excitedly, "How can I, ill-starred woman that I am, feel at ease,
now that this king has been saved by Mrigánkadatta, after entering the
very jaws of death?" When the warder heard her say that, he answered,
"Do not grieve, my dear! I will soon kill the king and Mrigánkadatta
too." When he said this, she answered, as fate would have it, "Why
do you boast? When the king was seized that day by monsters in the
water of the Narmadá, Mrigánkadatta alone was ready to rescue him;
why did you not kill him then? The fact is, you fled in fear. So be
silent, lest some one hear this speech of yours, and then you would
certainly meet with calamity at the hands of Mrigánkadatta, who is
a brave man." When she said this, her paramour the warder lost his
temper with her. He said, "Wretched woman, you are certainly in love
with Mrigánkadatta, so receive now from me the just recompense of that
taunt." And he rose up to kill her, dagger in hand. Then a maid, who
was her confidante, ran and laid hold of the dagger with her hand and
held it. In the meanwhile Manjumatí escaped into another room. And
the warder dragged the dagger out of the maid's hand, cutting her
fingers in the process; and returned home by the way which he came,
somewhat confused, with Mrigánkadatta, who was much astonished.
Then Mrigánkadatta, who could not be recognized in the darkness,
said to the warder, "You have reached your own house, so I will
leave you." But the warder said to the prince, "Sleep here to-night,
without going further, for you are very tired." Then the prince
consented, as he wished to learn something of his goings on; and
the warder called one of his servants and said to him, "Take this
man to the room where the peacock is, and let him rest there and
give him a bed." The servant said--"I will do as you command," and
took the prince to the room and placed a light in it, and gave him
a bed. He then departed, fastening the outer door with a chain, and
Mrigánkadatta saw the peacock there in a cage. He said to himself,
"This is the very peacock, that the warder was speaking of," and out
of curiosity he opened its cage. And the peacock came out and, after
looking intently at Mrigánkadatta, it fell down and rolled at his
feet again and again. And as it was rolling, the prince saw a string
tied round its neck and at once untied it, thinking that it gave the
bird pain. The peacock, the moment that the thread was loosed from
its neck, became before his eyes his minister Bhímaparákrama. Then
Mrigánkadatta embraced the affectionate minister, who bowed before
him, and in his astonishment said to him, "Tell me, friend, what is
the meaning of this?" Then Bhímaparákrama said to him in his delight,
"Listen, prince, I will tell you my story from the beginning."
The adventures of Bhímaparákrama after his separation from the prince.
When I was separated from you by the curse of the Nága, I wandered
about in the wood until I reached a salmali tree. [190] And I saw an
image representing Ganesa carved in the tree, which I worshipped,
and then I sat down at the foot of the tree being tired, and I
said to myself, "All this mischief has been brought about by me,
by telling my master that time the incident of the Vetála which took
place at night. So I will abandon here this my sinful body." In this
frame of mind I remained there, fasting, in front of the god. And
after some days an old traveller came that way, and sat in the shade
of that tree. And the good man, seeing me, questioned me with much
persistence, saying, "Why do you remain in this solitary place, my son,
with such a downcast face?" Then I told him my story, exactly as it
took place, and the old traveller kindly said to me, to encourage me;
"Why, being a man, are you killing yourself like a woman? Moreover,
even women do not lose their courage in calamity; hear the following
tale in proof of it."
Story of Kamalákara and Hansávalí.
In the city of Kosala there was a king, named Vimalákara, and he
had a son named Kamalákara, who was made by the Creator admirable in
respect of the qualities of courage, beauty and generosity, as if to
outdo Skanda, Kandarpa, and the wishing-tree of heaven. Then one day
a bard, whom he had known before, came and recited a certain stanza
in the presence of that prince, who deserved to be praised by bards in
all the regions of the world. "Where can the row of swans [191] obtain
satisfaction, until it reaches the lotus-bed, [192] round which sings a
host of many noisy birds [193] delighted at obtaining the lotus-flower
[194]?" When the bard, named Manorathasiddhi, had frequently recited
this stanza, prince Kamalákara questioned him, and he said to him:
"Prince, as I was roaming about, I reached the city of king Meghamálin,
named Vidisá, the pleasure-ground of the goddess of prosperity. There
I was staying in the house of a professor of singing, named Dardura,
and one day he happened to say to me, 'To-morrow the daughter of
the king, named Hansávalí, will exhibit in his presence her skill
in dancing, which she has lately been taught.' When I heard that,
I was filled with curiosity, and managed to enter the king's palace
with him the following day, and went into the dancing-hall. There I
saw the slender-waisted princess Hansávalí dancing before her father,
to the music of a great tabor, looking like a creeper of the tree of
Love agitated by the wind of youth, shaking her ornaments like flowers,
curving her hand like a shoot. Then I thought, 'There is no one fitted
to be the husband of this fawn-eyed one, except the prince Kamalákara;
so, if she, being such, is not joined to him, why has the god of love
taken the trouble of stringing his bow of flowers thus fruitlessly? So
I will adopt some expedient in this matter.' Thus minded I went, after
I had seen the spectacle, to the door of the king's court, and I put up
a notice with this inscription on it; 'If there is any painter here,
who is a match for me, let him paint a picture.' When no one else