The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
When I had said this, that friend in misfortune asked me my history,
and I told him the whole of my love affair with Madirávatí. Then that
good man said to me, "Why, though wise, are you bewildered? What is
the use of surrendering life, for the sake of which we acquire all
other things?" À propos of this, hear my story, which I now proceed
to relate to you.
The second Bráhman's story.
There is in the bosom of the Himálayas a country named Nishada, which
is the only refuge of virtue, banished from the earth by Kali, and the
native land of truth, and the home of the Krita age. The inhabitants
of that land are insatiable of learning, but not of money-getting;
they are satisfied with their own wives, but with benefiting others
never. I am the son of a Bráhman of that country who was rich in
virtue and wealth. I left my home, my friend, out of a curiosity which
impelled me to see other countries, and wandering about, visiting
teachers, I reached in course of time the city of Sankhapura not
far from here, where there is a great purifying lake of clear water,
sacred to Sankhapála king of the Nágas, and called Sankhahrada.
While I was living there in the house of my spiritual preceptor,
I went one holy bathing festival to visit the lake Sankhahrada. Its
banks were crowded, and its waters troubled on every side by people
who had come from all countries, like the sea when the gods and Asuras
churned it. I beheld that great lake, which seemed to make the women
look more lovely, as their garlands of flowers fell from their loosened
braids, while it gently stroked their waists with its waves like hands,
and made itself slightly yellow with the unguents which its embraces
rubbed off from their bodies. I then went to the south of the lake,
and beheld a clump of trees, which looked like the body of Cupid being
consumed by the fire of Siva's eye; its lápinchas did duty for smoke,
its kinsukas for red coals, and it was all aflame with twining masses
of the full-blown scarlet asoka.
There I saw a certain maiden gathering flowers at the entrance of
an arbour composed of the atimukta creeper; she seemed with her
playful sidelong glances to be threatening the lotus in her ear;
she kept raising her twining arm and displaying half her bosom; and
her beautiful loosened hair, hanging down her back, seemed like the
darkness seeking shelter to escape from her moon-like face. And I
said to myself "Surely the Creator must have made this girl, after
he had got his hand in by creating Rambhá and her sister-nymphs,
but one can see that she is mortal by the winking of her eyes."
The moment I saw that gazelle-eyed maid, she pierced my heart, like
a crescent-headed javelin of Mára, bewildering the three worlds. And
the moment she saw me, she was overcome by Cupid, and her hands
were rendered nerveless and listless by love, and she desisted from
her amusement of gathering flowers. She seemed, with the flashings
of the ruby in the midst of her moving flexible chain, [510] to be
displaying the flames of affection that had broken forth from her
heart in which they could not be contained; and turning round, she
looked at me again and again with an eye that seemed to be rendered
more charming by the pupil coming down to rest in its corner.
While we stood for a while looking at one another, there arose there
a great noise of people flying in terror. And there came that way an
infuriated elephant driven mad by the smell of the wild elephants;
it had broken its chain, and thrown its rider, and the elephant-hook
was swinging to and fro at the end of its ear. The moment I saw the
animal, I rushed forward, and taking up in my arms my beloved, who was
terrified, and whose attendants had run away, I carried her into the
middle of the crowd. Then she began to recover her composure, and her
attendants came up; but just at that moment the elephant, attracted by
the noise of the people, charged in our direction. The crowd dispersed
in terror at the monster's approach, and she disappeared among them,
having been carried off by her attendants in one direction, while I
went in another.
At last the alarm caused by the elephant came to an end, and then
I searched in every direction for that slender-waisted maid, but
I could not find her, as I did not know her name, her family, or
her dwelling-place; and so roaming about, with a void in my heart,
like a Vidyádhara that has lost his magic power, I with difficulty
tottered into my teacher's house. There I remained like one in a faint
or asleep, remembering the joy of embracing my beloved, and anxious
lest her love might fail. [511] And in course of time reflection
lulled me in her lap, as if affected with the compassion natural
to noble women, and shewed me a glimpse of hope, and soul-paining
ignorance hugged my heart, and an exceedingly severe headache took
possession of my brain. [512] In the meanwhile the day slipped away
and my self-command with it, and the lotus-thicket folded its cups
and my face was contracted with them, and the couples of Brahmany
ducks were dispersed with my hopes, the sun having gone to rest.
Then the moon, the chief friend of Love, that gladdens the eyes of
the happy, rose up, adorning the face of the east; its rays, though
ambrosial, seemed to me like fiery fingers, and though it lit up
the quarters of the sky, it closed in me all hope of life. Then one
of my fellow-students, seeing that in my misery I had flung my body
into moonlight as into a fire, and was longing for death, said to me,
"Why are you in this evil case? You do not appear to have any disease;
but, if you have mental affliction caused by longing for wealth or
by love, I will tell you the truth about those objects; listen to
me. The wealth, which through over-covetousness men desire to gain by
cheating their neighbours, or by robbing them, does not remain. The
poison-trees [513] of wealth, which are rooted in wickedness and
bring forth an abundant crop of wickedness, are soon broken by the
weight of their own fruit. All that is gained by that wealth in this
world, is the toil of acquiring it and other annoyances, and in the
next world great suffering in hell, a suffering that shall continue
as long as the moon and stars endure. As for love, that love which
fails of attaining its object brings disappointment that puts an end
to life, and unlawful love, though pleasing in the mouth, is simply
the forerunner of the fire of hell, [514] but a man's mind is sound
owing to good actions in a former life, and a hero, who possesses
self-command and energy, obtains wealth, and the object of his desires,
not a spiritless coward like you. So, my good fellow, have recourse
to self-command, and strive for the attainment of your ends."
When that friend said this to me I returned him a careless and random
answer. However, I concealed my real thoughts, spent the night in
a calm and composed manner, and in course of time came here, to
see if by any chance she lived in this town. When I arrived here,
I saw you with your neck in a noose, and after you were cut down,
I heard from you your sorrow, and I have now told you my own.
So I have made efforts to obtain that fair one whose name and
dwelling-place I know not, and have thus exerted myself to gain what
no heroism could procure; but why do you, when Madirávatí is within
your grasp, play the faint-heart, instead of manfully striving to
win her? Have you not heard the legend of old days with regard to
Rukminí? Was she not carried off by Vishnu after she had been given
to the king of Chedi?
While that friend of mine was thus concluding his tale, Madirávatí
came there with her followers, preceded by the usual auspicious band
of music, in order to worship the god of Love in this temple of the
Mothers. And I said to my friend, "I knew all along that maidens on
the day of their marriage come here to worship the god of Love, this is
why I tried to hang myself on the banyan-tree in front of this temple,
in order that when Madirávatí came here, she might see that I had died
for her sake." When that resolute Bráhman friend heard that, he said,
"Then let us quickly slip into this temple and remain hidden behind the
images of the Mothers, and see whether any expedient will then present
itself to us or not." When my friend made this proposal, I consented,
and went with him into that temple, and remained there concealed.
And Madirávatí came there slowly, escorted by the auspicious wedding
music, and entered that temple. And she left at the door all her female
friends and male attendants, saying to them, "I wish in private to
crave from the awful god of Love a certain boon [515] that is in my
mind, so remain all of you outside the building." Then she came in and
addressed the following prayer to Kámadeva after she had worshipped
him, "O god, since thou art named 'the mind-born,' how was it that
thou didst not discern the beloved that was in my mind? Why hast thou
disappointed and slain me? If thou hast not been able to grant me my
boon in this birth, at any rate have mercy upon me in my next birth,
O husband of Rati. Shew me so much favour as to ensure that handsome
young Bráhman's being my husband in my next birth."
When the girl had said this in our hearing and before our eyes, she
made a noose by fastening her upper garment to a peg, and put it round
her neck. And my friend said to me, "Go and shew yourself to her,
and take the noose from her neck;" so I immediately went towards
her. And I said to her with a voice faltering from excess of joy,
"Do not act rashly, my beloved; see, here is your slave in front of
you, bought by you with the risk of your life, in whom affection has
been produced by your utterance in the moment of your grief;" and
with these words I removed the noose from the neck of that fair one.
She immediately looked at me, and remained for a moment divided between
joy and terror, and then my friend said quickly to me, "As this is
a dimly lighted hour owing to the waning of the day, I will go out
dressed in Madirávatí's garments with her attendants. And do you go
out by the second door, taking with you this bride wrapped up in our
upper garments. And make for whatever foreign country you please,
during the night, when you will be able to avoid detection. And do
not be anxious about me. Fate will bestow on me prosperity." When
my friend had said this, he put on Madirávatí's dress, and went out,
and left that temple in the darkness, surrounded by her attendants.
And I slipped out by another door with Madirávatí, who wore a necklace
of priceless jewels, and went three yojanas in the night. In the
morning I took food, and slowly travelling on, I reached in the
course of some days, with my beloved, a city named Achalapura. There
a certain Bráhman shewed himself my friend, and gave me a house,
and there I quickly married Madirávatí.
So I have been living there in happiness, having obtained my desire,
and my only anxiety has been as to what could have become of my
friend. And in course of time I came here to bathe in the Ganges,
on this day which is the festival of the summer solstice, and lo! I
found here this man who without cause shewed himself my friend. And
full of embarrassment I folded him in a long embrace, and at last
made him sit down and asked him to tell me his adventures, and at
that moment your Highness came up. Know, son of the king of Vatsa,
that this other Bráhman at my side is my true friend in calamity,
to whom I owe my life and my wife.
When one Bráhman had told his story in these words, Naraváhanadatta
said to the other Bráhman, "I am much pleased; now tell me, how did you
escape from so great a danger? For men like yourself, who disregard
their lives for the sake of their friends, are hard to find." When