The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
He conquered by his great valour all his enemies; and as Indra has
Vrihaspati for a minister, he had Dírghadarsin. Now, in course of
time, this king, infatuated with his youth and beauty, entrusted to
that minister his realm, from which all enemies had been eradicated,
and became devoted to pleasure only. He remained continually in the
harem instead of the judgment-hall; he listened to delightful songs
in the womens' apartments, instead of hearkening to the voice of
his well-wishers; in his thoughtlessness, he was devoted to latticed
windows and not to the affairs of his kingdom, though the latter also
were full of holes.
But the great minister Dírghadarsin continued unweariedly upholding
the burden of his kingdom's cares, day and night. And a general
rumour spread to the following effect, "Dírghadarsin has plunged in
dissipation the sovereign, who is satisfied with the mere name of king,
and so he manages now to enjoy himself all his master's power." Then
the minister Dírghadarsin said of himself to his wife Medhávatí,
"My dear, as the king is addicted to pleasure, and I do his work,
a calumny has been circulated among the people against me, to the
effect that I have devoured the realm. And a general rumour, though
false, injures even great men in this world; was not Ráma compelled
by a slanderous report to abandon his wife Sítá? So what course must I
adopt in this emergency?" When the minister said this, his firm-souled
wife Medhávatí, [322] who was rightly named, said to him; "Take leave
of the king on the pretext of a pilgrimage to holy bathing-places;
it is expedient, great-minded Sir, that you should go to a foreign
land for a certain time. So you will be seen to be free from ambition,
and the calumny against you will die out; and while you are absent,
the king will bear the burden of the kingdom himself, and then this
vicious tendency of his will gradually diminish, and when you return,
you will be able to discharge your office of minister without blame."
When Dírghadarsin's wife said this to him, he said, "I will do so," and
he went and said to the king Yasahketu in the course of conversation,
"Give me leave to depart, king, I am going on a pilgrimage for some
days, for my heart is set on that religious duty." When the king heard
that, he said, "Do not do so! Cannot you, without going on pilgrimages,
perform in your house noble religious duties, such as charity and so
on, which will procure you heaven?" When the minister heard this, he
said, "King, that purity which comes of wealth is sought by charity
and so on, but holy bathing-places have an everlasting purity. And a
wise man must visit them, while he is young; for otherwise how can he
be sure of reaching them, as this body cannot be relied on?" While
he was saying this, and the king was still trying to dissuade him,
a warder entered, and said to the king, "King, the sun is plunging
into the middle of the lake of heaven, so rise up, this is the hour
appointed for you to bathe in, and it is rapidly passing away." When
the king heard this, he immediately rose up to bathe, and the minister,
whose heart was set on pilgrimage, bowed before him, and went home
to his own house.
There he left his wife, whom he forbade to follow him, and managed
cunningly to set out in secret, without even his servants suspecting
his departure. And alone he wandered from country to country with
resolute perseverance, and visited holy bathing-places, and at last
he reached the land of Paundra. In a certain city in that country
not far from the sea, he entered a temple of Siva, and sat down
in a courtyard attached to it. There a merchant, named Nidhidatta,
who had come to worship the god, saw him exhausted with the heat of
the sun's rays, dusty with his long journey. The merchant, being a
hospitable man, seeing that the traveller, who was in such a state,
wore a Bráhmanical thread, and had auspicious marks, concluded that he
was a distinguished Bráhman, and took him home to his own house. There
he honoured him with a bath, food, and other refreshments in the most
luxurious style, and when his fatigue was removed, he said to him,
"Who are you, whence do you come, and where are you going?" And
the Bráhman gave him this reserved answer; "I am a Bráhman of
the name of Dírghadarsin; I have come here on pilgrimage from the
land of Anga." Then the merchant prince Nidhidatta said to him,
"I am about to go on a trading expedition to the Island of Gold;
so you must live in my house, until I return; and then you will have
recovered from the fatigue which you have incurred by roaming to holy
places, and you can go home." When Dírghadarsin heard that, he said,
"Why should I remain here? I will go with you, great merchant, if
you like." The good man said, "So be it," and then the minister,
who had long discarded the use of beds, spent that night in his house.
The next day he went with that merchant to the sea, and embarked on
a ship laden with his merchandise. He travelled along in that ship,
and beheld the awful and wonderful ocean, and in course of time reached
the Isle of Gold. What had a man holding the office of prime minister
to do with sea-voyages? But what will not men of honour do to prevent
their fame from being sullied? So he remained some time in that island
with that merchant Nidhidatta, who was engaged in buying and selling.
And as he was returning with him on the ship, he suddenly saw a
wave rise up, and then a wishing-tree arise out of the sea; it was
adorned with boughs glittering with gold, which were embellished with
sprays of coral, and bore lovely fruits and flowers of jewels. And
he beheld on its trunk a maiden, alluring on account of her wonderful
beauty, reclining on a gem-bestudded couch. He reflected for a moment,
"Dear me! What can this be?" And thereupon the maiden, who had a lyre
in her hand, began to sing this song, "Whatever seed of works any
man has sown in a former life, of that he, without doubt, eats the
fruit; for even fate cannot alter what has been done in a previous
state of existence." When the heavenly maiden had sung this song,
she immediately plunged into that sea, with the wishing-tree, and
the couch on which she was reclining. Then Dírghadarsin reflected,
"I have to-day seen a wonderful sight; one would never have expected
to find in the sea a tree, with a heavenly maiden singing on it,
appearing and disappearing as soon as beheld. Or rather, this admirable
treasure-house of the sea is ever the same; did not Lakshmí, and
the moon, and the Párijáta tree, and other precious things come out
of it?" But the steersman and the rest of the crew, perceiving that
Dírghadarsin was astonished and puzzled, said to him, "This lovely
woman always appears here in the same way, and sinks down again at
once; but this sight is new to you."
This is what they said to the minister, but he still continued in
a state of wonder, and so he reached in course of time on the ship,
with that Nidhidatta, the coast for which they were making. There the
merchant disembarked his wares, gladdening the hearts of his servants,
and the minister went in high spirits with him to his house, which was
full of mirth at his arrival. And after he had remained there a short
time, he said to Nidhidatta, "Merchant prince, I have long reposed
comfortably in your house, now I wish to return to my own land; I wish
you all happiness." With these words he took leave of the merchant
prince, who was sorely unwilling to let him go, and with his virtue
for his only companion he set out thence, and having in course of time
accomplished the long journey, he reached his own native land of Anga.
There the spies, who had been placed by king Yasahketu to watch for his
return, saw him coming, before he entered the city, and informed the
king; and then the king, who had been much afflicted by his absence,
went out from the city to meet him; and came up to him and welcomed him
with an embrace. Then the king conducted into the palace his minister,
who was emaciated and begrimed with his long journey, and said to him,
"Why did you leave me, bringing your mind to this cruel heartless
step, and your body into this squalid state from its being deprived of
unguents? [323] But who knows the way of the mighty god Fate, in that
you suddenly fixed your mind on pilgrimage to holy waters and other
sacred places? So tell me, what lands have you wandered through,
and what novel sights have you seen?" Then Dírghadarsin described
his journey to the Island of Gold, in all its stages, and so was
led to tell the king of that maiden, the jewel of the three worlds,
whom he had seen rise out of the sea, and sit on the wishing-tree
singing. All this he narrated exactly as it took place.
The moment the king heard all this, he fell so deeply in love with her,
that he considered his kingdom and life valueless without her. And
taking his minister aside, he said to him, "I must certainly see that
maiden, otherwise I cannot live. I will go by the way which you have
described, after worshipping Fate. And you must not dissuade, and
you must by no means follow me, for I will travel alone incognito,
and in the meanwhile you must take care of my kingdom. Do not disobey
my order, otherwise my death will lie at your door." Thus spake the
king, and refused to hear his minister's answer, and then dismissed
him to his own house to see his relations, who had long been wishing
for his return. There, in the midst of great rejoicing Dírghadarsin
remained despondent; how can good ministers be happy, when their
lord's vices are incurable?
And the next night the king Yasahketu set out, disguised as an ascetic,
having entrusted his kingdom to the care of that minister. And on the
way, as he was going along, he saw a hermit, named Kusanábha, and
he bowed before him. The hermit said to the king who was disguised
as an ascetic, "Go on your way boldly; by going to sea in a ship
with the merchant Lakshmídatta you shall obtain that maiden whom you
desire." This speech delighted the king exceedingly, and bowing again
before the hermit, he continued his journey; and after crossing many
countries, rivers, and mountains, he reached the sea, which seemed to
be full of eagerness to entertain him. Its eddies looked like eyes
expanded to gaze at him, eyes of which waves were the curved brows,
and which were white with shrill-sounding conchs for pupils. On the
shore he met the merchant Lakshmídatta spoken of by the hermit, who
was on the point of setting out for the Isle of Gold. The merchant
prostrated himself before him, when he saw the signs of his royal
birth, such as the discus-marked foot-print and so on; and the king
embarked on the ship with him, and set out with him on the sea. And
when the ship had reached the middle of the ocean, that maiden arose
from the water, seated on the trunk of the wishing-tree, and while
the king was gazing at her, as a partridge at the moonlight, she
sang a song which the accompaniment of her lyre made more charming;
"Whatever seed of works any man has sown in a former life, of that he,
without doubt, eats the fruit, for even Fate cannot alter what has
been done in a previous state of existence. So a man is helplessly
borne along to experience precisely that lot which Fate has appointed
for him, in that place and in that manner which Fate has decreed;
of this there can be no doubt." When the king heard her singing this
song, and thus setting forth the thing that must be, he was smitten
with the arrow of love, and remained for some time motionless,
gazing at her. Then he began, with bowed head, to praise the sea
in the following words, "Hail, to thee, store-house of jewels, of
unfathomable heart, since by concealing this lovely nymph thou hast