The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
every night, and we cannot detect them, so let your Highness take the
necessary steps." When the king had received this petition from the
citizens, he stationed watchmen in plain clothes all round the city,
in order to try and discover the thieves.
But they could not find them out, and the city went on being robbed;
so one night the king himself went out to watch; and as he was roaming
about armed, he saw in a certain part of the town a single individual
going along the rampart. He shewed great dexterity in his movements,
as he made his footfall perfectly noiseless, and he often looked
behind him with eyes anxiously rolling. The king said to himself,
"Without doubt this is the thief, who sallies out by himself and
plunders my city;" so he went up to him. Then the thief, seeing the
king, said to him, "Who are you," and the king answered him, "I am a
thief." Then the thief said, "Bravo! you are my friend, as you belong
to the same profession as myself; so come to my house, I will entertain
you." When the king heard that, he consented, and went with him to
his dwelling, which was in an underground cavern in a forest. It was
luxuriously and magnificently furnished, illuminated by blazing lamps,
and looked like a second Pátála, not governed by king Bali.
When the king had entered, and had taken a seat, the robber went
into the inner rooms of his cave-dwelling. At that moment a female
slave came and said to the king, "Great Sir, how came you to enter
this mouth of death? This man is a notable thief; no doubt, when he
comes out from those rooms, he will do you some injury: I assure you,
he is treacherous; so leave this place at once." When the king heard
this, he left the place at once, and went to his own palace and got
ready his forces that very night.
And when his army was ready for battle, he came and blockaded the
entrance of that robber's cave with his troops, who sounded all their
martial instruments. [338] Then the brave robber, as his hold was
blockaded, knew that his secret had been discovered, and he rushed
out to fight, determined to die. And when he came out, he displayed
superhuman prowess in battle; alone, armed with sword and shield, he
cut off the trunks of elephants, he slashed off the legs of horses,
and lopped off the heads of soldiers. When he had made this havoc among
the soldiers, the king himself attacked him. And the king, who was
a skilful swordsman, by a dexterous trick of fence forced his sword
from his hand, and then the dagger which he drew; and as he was now
disarmed, the king threw away his own weapon, and grappling with him,
flung him on the earth, and captured him alive. And he brought him
back as a prisoner to his own capital, with all his wealth. And he
gave orders that he should be put to death by impalement next morning.
Now, when that robber was being conducted with beat of drum to the
place of execution, that merchant's daughter Ratnavatí saw him from her
palace. Though he was wounded, and his body was begrimed with dust, she
was distracted with love as soon as she saw him, so she went and said
to her father Ratnadatta, "I select as my husband this man here, who is
being led off to execution, so ransom him from the king, my father; if
you will not, I shall follow him to the other world." When her father
heard this he said, "My daughter, what is this that you say? Before
you would not accept suitors endowed with all virtues, equal to the
god of love. How comes it that you are now in love with an infamous
brigand chief?" Though her father used this argument, and others of
the same kind with her, she remained fixed in her determination. Then
the merchant went quickly to the king, and offered him all his wealth,
if he would grant the robber his life. But the king would not make
over to him, even for hundreds of crores of gold pieces, that thief
who had robbed on such a gigantic scale, and whom he had captured at
the risk of his own life. Then the father returned disappointed, and
his daughter made up her mind to follow the thief to the other world,
though her relations tried to dissuade her; so she bathed, and got
into a palanquin, and went to the spot where his execution was taking
place, followed by her father and mother and the people, all weeping.
In the meanwhile the robber had been impaled by the executioners, and
as his life was ebbing away on the stake, he saw her coming there with
her kinsfolk. And when he heard the whole story from the people, he
wept for a moment, and then he laughed a little, and then died on the
stake. Then the merchant's virtuous daughter had the thief's body taken
down from the stake, and she ascended the funeral pyre with it. [339]
And at that very moment the holy Siva, who was invisibly present
in the cemetery, spake from the air, "Faithful wife, I am pleased
with thy devotedness to thy self-chosen husband, so crave a boon of
me." When she heard that, she worshipped and prayed the god of gods
to grant her the following boon, "Lord, may my father, who has now
no sons, have a hundred, for otherwise, as he has no children but me,
he would abandon his life." [340] When the good woman had said this,
the god once more spake to her, saving, "Let thy father have a hundred
sons! choose another boon; for such a steadfastly good woman, as thou
art, deserves something more than this."
When she heard this, she said, "If the Lord is pleased with me, then
let this husband of mine rise up alive, and be henceforth a well
conducted man!" Thereupon Siva, invisible in the air, uttered these
words, "Be it so; let thy husband rise up alive, and lead henceforth
a life of virtue, and let king Víraketu be pleased with him!" And
immediately the robber rose up alive with unwounded limbs.
Then the merchant Ratnadatta was delighted, and astonished at the same
time; and with his daughter Ratnavatí and the bandit his son-in-law,
and his delighted relations, he entered his own palace, and as he had
obtained from the god the promise of sons, he held a feast suitable
to his own joy on the occasion. And when king Víraketu heard what had
taken place, he was pleased, and he immediately summoned that heroic
thief, and made him commander of his army. And thereupon the heroic
thief gave up his dishonest life, and married the merchant's daughter,
and led a respectable life, honoured by the king.
When the Vetála, seated on the shoulder of king Trivikramasena,
had told him this tale, he asked him the following question,
menacing him with the before-mentioned curse; "Tell me, king, why
that thief, when impaled, first wept and then laughed, when he saw
the merchant's daughter come with her father." Then the king said;
"He wept for sorrow that he had not been able to repay the merchant for
his gratuitous kindness to him; and he laughed out of astonishment,
as he said to himself, 'What! has this maiden, after rejecting kings
who asked for her hand, fallen in love with me? In truth a woman's
heart is an intricate labyrinth.'" When the king had said this, the
mighty Vetála, by means of the magic power which he possessed, again
left the king's shoulder and returned to his station on the tree,
and the king once more went to fetch him.
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
(Vetála 15.)
Then king Trivikramasena again went back to the asoka-tree and took
the Vetála from it, and set out with him once more; and as the king
was going along, the Vetála, perched on his shoulder, said to him;
"Listen, king, I will tell you another story."
Story of the magic globule.
There was in the kingdom of Nepála a city named Sivapura, and in it
there lived of old time a king rightly named Yasahketu. He devolved
upon his minister, named Prajnáságara, the burden of his kingdom,
and enjoyed himself in the society of his queen Chandraprabhá. And in
course of time that king had born to him, by that queen, a daughter
named Sasiprabhá, bright as the moon, the eye of the world.
Now in course of time she grew up to womanhood, and one day, in the
month of spring, she went to a garden, with her attendants, to witness
a festive procession. And in a certain part of that garden a Bráhman,
of the name of Manahsvámin, the son of a rich man, who had come to
see the procession, beheld her engaged in gathering flowers, raising
her lithe arm, and displaying her graceful shape; and she looked
charming when the grasp of her thumb and forefinger on the stalks of
the flowers relaxed. When the young man Manahsvámin saw her, she at
once robbed him of his heart, and he was bewildered by love and no
longer master of his feelings. [341] He said to himself, "Can this
be Rati come in person to gather the flowers accumulated by spring,
in order to make arrows for the god of love? Or is it the presiding
goddess of the wood, come to worship the spring?" While he was making
these surmises, the princess caught sight of him. And as soon as
she saw him, looking like a second god of love created with a body,
she forgot her flowers, and her limbs, and her own personal identity.
While those two were thus overpowered by the passion of mutual love at
first sight, a loud shout of alarm was raised, and they both looked
with uplifted heads to see what it could mean. Then there came that
way an elephant, rushing along with its elephant-hook hanging down,
that driven furious by perceiving the smell of another elephant,
[342] had broken its fastenings, and rushed out in a state of frenzy,
breaking down the trees in its path, and had thrown its driver. The
princess's attendants dispersed in terror, but Manahsvámin eagerly
rushed forward, and took her up alone in his arms, and while she
clung timidly to him, bewildered with fear, love, and shame, carried
her to a distance, out of reach of the elephant. Then her attendants
came up and praised that noble Bráhman, and conducted her back to her
palace. But as she went, she frequently turned round to look at her
deliverer. There she remained, thinking regretfully of that man who had
saved her life, consumed day and night by the smouldering fire of love.
And Manahsvámin then left that garden, and seeing that the princess
had entered her private apartments, he said to himself, in regretful
longing, "I cannot remain without her, nay I cannot live without her:
so my only resource in this difficulty is the cunning Múladeva, who
is a master of magic arts." Having thus reflected, he managed to get
through that day, and the next morning he went to visit that master of
magic, Múladeva. And he saw that master, who was ever in the company
of his friend Sasin, full of many marvellous magic ways, like the sky
come down to earth in human shape. [343] And he humbly saluted him,
and told him his desire; then the master laughed, and promised to
accomplish it for him. Then that matchless deceiver Múladeva placed a
magic globule [344] in his mouth, and transformed himself into an aged
Bráhman; and he gave the Bráhman Manahsvámin a second globule to put
in his mouth, and so made him assume the appearance of a beautiful
maiden. And that prince of villains took him in this disguise to
the judgment-hall of the king, the father of his lady-love, and said
to him,"O king, I have only one son, and I asked for a maiden to be
given him to wife, and brought her from a long distance; but now he
has gone somewhere or other, and I am going to look for him; so keep
this maiden safe for me until I bring back my son, for you keep safe
under your protection the whole world." [345] When king Yasahketu
heard this petition, he granted it, fearing a curse if he did not,
and summoned his daughter Sasiprabhá, and said to her; "Daughter,
keep this maiden in your palace, and let her sleep and take her meals
with you." The princess agreed, and took Manahsvámin transformed