The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
seven heroes to the hall of king Chandráditya. When the king saw his
splendour, his resolute bearing and handsome appearance, he received
him kindly, and made him sit on a throne equal to his own, and then
his friend, the Bráhman Sankhadatta, said to the king, "King, this
is the son of Ugrabhata the king of Rádhá, Bhímabhata by name; his
might is irresistible on account of the wonderful power of the charm
which he possesses. And he has come here to sue for the hand of your
daughter." When the king heard that, he remembered the occurrence of
the night, and seeing that he was a suitable match for his daughter,
he exclaimed, "I am fortunate indeed," and accepted the proposal. And
after he had made splendid preparations for the marriage, he bestowed
his daughter Hansávalí on Bhímabhata with much wealth. Then Bhímabhata,
having obtained many elephants, horses, and villages, remained there in
great comfort, possessed of Hansávalí and the goddess of Fortune. And
in a few days his father-in-law gave him that kingdom of Láta, and,
being childless and old, retired to the forest. Then the successful
Bhímabhata, having obtained that kingdom, ruled it admirably with
the help of those seven heroes, Sankhadatta and the others.
Then, in the course of some days, he heard from his spies, that
his father king Ugrabhata had gone to Prayága and died there; and
that, when he was intent on death, he had anointed his youngest
son Samarabhata, the son of the dancing-girl, king of Rádhá. Then
he mourned for his father, and performed his funeral ceremonies, and
sent a messenger to that Samarabhata with a letter. And in the letter,
he sent the following message to the pretender who was treating him
unjustly, "Foolish son of a dancing-girl, what business have you to
sit on my father's throne, for it belongs to me, though I have this
kingdom of Láta; so you must not ascend it." And the messenger went,
and after announcing himself, delivered the letter to that Samarabhata,
when he was in the hall of assembly. And when Samarabhata read this
letter of such an import, under his brother's sign manual, he was
angry, and answered, "This baseless presumption is becoming in this
ill-conducted man, who was long ago banished by my father from the
country, because he was not fit to remain in it. Even the jackal apes
the lion, when he is comfortably ensconced in his native cavern,
but when he comes within view of the lion, he is discovered to be
only a jackal." Such was the answer he roared forth, and he wrote to
the same effect in a letter, and sent his return-messenger to carry
it to Bhímabhata.
So the return-messenger went, and gave, when introduced by the warder,
that letter to the king of Láta. And when Bhímabhata had read that
letter, he laughed loudly, and said to the return-messenger of his
brother--"Go, messenger, and tell that dancing-girl's son from me,
'On that former occasion when you tried to seize the horse, I saved
you from Sankhadatta, because you were a child and dear to my father,
but I will no longer endure your insolence. I will certainly send
you to my father who is so fond of you. Make ready, and know that
in a few days I shall have arrived.'" With these words he dismissed
the messenger, and then he began his expedition. When that moon of
kings, glorious in his magnificence, [272] mounted his elephant which
resembled a hill, the great sea of his army was agitated and surged up
with a roar, and the horizon was filled with innumerable feudal chiefs
and princes arrived for war, [273] and setting out with their forces;
and the earth, swiftly trampled by the elephants and horses trooping
along in great numbers, groaned and trembled under the weight, as if
afraid of being cleft open. In this fashion Bhímabhata marched and
came near Rádhá, eclipsing the light of the sun in the heavens with
the clouds of dust raised by his army.
In the meanwhile king Samarabhata heard of it, and became indignant;
and armed himself, and went out with his army to meet him in
battle. And those two armies met, like the eastern and western seas,
and a great battle took place between the heroes on both sides,
awful as the destruction of the world. Then the fire, produced by the
loud clashing of swords, which seemed as if it had been kindled by
the gnashing of the teeth of the angry god of Death, hid the sky;
and javelins flew with their long points resembling eyelashes,
and seemed like the glances of the nymphs of heaven, as they gazed
on the warriors. Then the field of battle appeared like a stage;
its canopy was dust, its music was the shouting of the army, and
its dancers palpitating trunks. And a furious [274] torrent of blood,
sweeping along heads, and garlanded with trunks, carried off all living
creatures, like the night of destruction at the end of the world.
But the archer Bhímabhata soon routed the army of his enemies,
by means of a combined attack of the mighty warriors Sankhadatta,
and Akshakshapanaka, and Chandabhujanga and his fellows, skilled
in wrestling, resembling impetuous elephants. And Samarabhata was
furious, when his army was routed, and he dashed forward on his
chariot, and began to churn the sea of battle, as Mount Mandara
churned the ocean. [275] Then Bhímabhata, who was mounted on an
elephant, attacked him, and cut his bow in two with his arrows, and
also killed all the four horses of his chariot. Then Samarabhata,
being prevented from using his chariot, ran and struck with a javelin
on the forehead the splendid elephant of Bhímabhata, and the elephant,
as soon as it was struck, fell dead on the ground. Then both of them,
being deprived of their means of conveyance, had to fight on foot. And
the two angry kings, armed with sword and shield, engaged in single
combat. But Bhímabhata, though he might have made himself invisible
by means of his charm, and so have killed him, out of a regard for
fairness, would not kill his enemy in that way. But being a skilful
swordsman, he contended against him in open fight, and cut off with
his sword the head of that son of the dancing-girl.
And when that Samarabhata was slain with his soldiers, and the
bands of the Siddhas had applauded from the heavens, and the fight
had come to an end, Bhímabhata with his friends entered the city of
Rádhá, being praised by heralds and minstrels. Then, returning from
a long absence, after slaying his enemy, he delighted his mother,
who was eager to behold him, as Ráma did Kausalyá. And the citizens
welcomed him, and then he adorned the throne of his father, and took
his seat on it, honoured by his father's ministers, who loved his
good qualities. And then he honoured all his subjects, who made high
festival; and on a lucky day he gave to Sankhadatta the kingdom of
Láta. And he sent him to the territory of Láta, escorted by a force
composed of natives of that country; and he gave villages and wealth to
Akshakshapanaka and his fellows, and he remained surrounded by them,
ruling his ancestral realm, with that queen Hansávalí, the daughter
of the king of Láta. And, in course of time, he conquered the earth,
and carried off the daughters of kings, and became exclusively addicted
to the enjoyment of their society. And he devolved his duties on his
ministers, and amused himself with the women of his harem, and never
left its precincts, being engrossed with drinking and other vices.
Then, one day, the hermit Uttanka came of his own accord to visit him,
as if he were the time of accomplishment of the previous decree of
Siva. And when the hermit came to the door, the king, being blinded
with passion, intoxication, and the pride of sovereignty, would not
listen, though the warders announced his arrival. Then the hermit
was angry, and denounced this curse on the king, "O man blinded with
intoxication, you shall fall from your throne, and become a wild
elephant." When the king heard that, fear dispelled his intoxication,
and he went out, and prostrating himself at the foot of the hermit,
began to appease him with humble words. Then the anger of the
great sage was calmed, and he said to him, "King, you must become
an elephant, that decree cannot be altered; but when you shall have
relieved a minister of Mrigánkadatta's, named Prachandasakti, afflicted
with the curse of a Nága and blinded, who shall become your guest,
and shall tell him your story, you shall be delivered from this curse;
and you shall return to the state of a Gandharva, as Siva foretold
to you, and then that guest of yours shall recover the use of his
eyes." When the hermit Uttanka had said this, he returned as he came,
and Bhímabhata was hurled from his throne, and became an elephant.
"So know, my friend, that I am that very Bhímabhata, become an
elephant, and you are Prachandasakti; I know that my curse is now
at an end." When Bhímabhata had said this, he abandoned the form of
an elephant, and at once became a Gandharva of heavenly might. And
immediately Prachandasakti recovered, to his intense delight, the use
of his eyes, and looked upon that Gandharva there. And in the meanwhile
the discreet Mrigánkadatta, who had heard their conversation from
the bower of creepers, with his other ministers, having discovered
that it was indeed his friend, rushed quickly and impetuously forth,
and threw his arms round the neck of his minister Prachandasakti. And
Prachandasakti looked at him, and feeling as if his body had been
irrigated with a sudden flood of nectar, immediately embraced the
feet of his lord.
Then the Gandharva Bhímabhata comforted those two, who were weeping,
both deeply moved at being reunited after so long a separation. And
Mrigánkadatta, bowing, said to that Gandharva, "That I have recovered
this friend of mine, and that he has recovered his eyesight, is
all due to your wondrous might. Honour to you!" When the Gandharva
heard that, he said to that prince, "You shall soon recover all your
other ministers, and obtain Sasánkavatí as a wife, and become king
of the whole earth. So you must not lose heart. Now, auspicious one,
I depart, but I will appear to you when you think of me."
When the matchless chief of the Gandharvas had said this to the prince,
and so testified his friendship for him, as his curse was at an end,
and he had obtained prosperous felicity, he flew up swiftly into the
sky, making the whole air resound with the tinkling of his beautiful
bracelet and necklace.
And Mrigánkadatta, having recovered Prachandasakti, and so regained
his spirits, spent that day in the wood, accompanied by his ministers.
CHAPTER LXXV.
Victory to Ganesa, who, when dancing, makes a shower of stars,
resembling a rain of flowers, fall from the sky, by a blow of his
trunk!
Then Mrigánkadatta, having passed that night, set out in the morning
from that wood, together with Prachandasakti and his other affectionate
ministers, making for Ujjayiní in order to gain Sasánkavatí, and
looking out for the rest of his ministers.
And as he was going along on his way, he saw his minister
Vikramakesarin being carried through the air by a hideously deformed
man. And while he was eagerly pointing him out to his other ministers,
that minister alighted from the air near him. And quickly dismounting
from the shoulder of that man, he came up and embraced the feet
of Mrigánkadatta, with his eyes full of tears. And the delighted
Mrigánkadatta embraced him in return, and so did his ministers, one
after another, and then Vikramakesarin dismissed that man, saying,
"Come to me, when I think of you." Then Mrigánkadatta out of curiosity
asked Vikramakesarin for the story of his adventures, and he sat down
in the forest and related them.
The adventures of Vikramakesarin.
When I had been separated from you on that occasion by the curse of the