The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
who married me yesterday.'
"Saying this, she at once stopped eating and drinking; and the old
Bráhman, through fear of the king, had her taken back to her father's
house. There she told the trick that the old Bráhman had played her,
and her father, in great grief, said to her, 'How are we to discover,
my daughter, who the man that married you, is?' Then Rúpavatí said,
'My husband's name is Kesata, and he is the son of a Bráhman named
Desata in Pátaliputra; for so much I heard from the mouth of a
Rákshasa.' When she had said this, she told her father the whole
story of her husband and the Rákshasa. Then her father went and saw
the Rákshasa lying dead, and so he believed his daughter's story,
and was pleased with the virtue of that couple.
"He consoled his daughter with hopes of reunion with her husband, and
sent his son to Kesata's father in Pátaliputra, to search for him. And
after some time they came back and said, 'We saw the householder
Desata in Pátaliputra. But when we asked him where his son Kesata was,
he answered us with tears, "My son Kesata is not here; he did return
here, and a friend of his named Kandarpa came with him; but he went
away from here without telling me, pining for Rúpavatí"--When we
heard this speech of his, we came back here in due course.'
"When those sent to search had brought back this report, Rúpavatí said
to her father, 'I shall never recover my husband, so I will enter the
fire; how long, father, can I live here without my husband?' She went
on saying this, and as her father has not been able to dissuade her,
she has come out to-day to perish in the fire. And two maidens,
friends of hers, have come out to die in the same way; one is
called Sringáravatí and the other Anurágavatí. For long ago, at the
marriage of Rúpavatí, they saw Kesata and made up their minds that
they would have him for a husband, as their hearts were captivated
by his beauty. This is the meaning of the noise which the people here
are making."
When Kandarpa heard this from that man, he went to the pyre which had
been heaped up for those ladies. He made a sign to the people from
a distance to cease their tumult, and going up quickly, he said to
Rúpavatí, who was worshipping the fire; "Noble lady; desist from this
rashness; that husband of yours Kesata is alive; he is my friend; know
that I am Kandarpa." When he had said this, he told her all Kesata's
adventures, beginning with the circumstance of the old Bráhman's
treacherously making him embark on the boat. Then Rúpavatí believed
him, as his story tallied so completely with what she knew, and she
joyfully entered her father's house with those two friends. And her
father kindly welcomed Kandarpa and took good care of him; and so he
remained there, to please him.
In the meanwhile it happened that, as Kesata was roaming about, he
reached Ratnapura and found there the house of Kandarpa, in which
his two wives were. And as he was wandering about near the house,
Sumanas, the wife of Kandarpa, saw him from the top of the house
and said delighted to her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and the
other people in the house, "Here now is Kesata my husband's friend
arrived; we may hear news of my husband from him; quickly invite
him in." Then they went and on some pretext or other brought in
Kesata as she advised, and when he saw Sumanas come towards him,
he was delighted. And after he had rested she questioned him, and
he immediately told her his own and Kandarpa's adventures, after the
scare produced by the wild elephants.
He remained there some days, hospitably entertained, and then a
messenger came from Kandarpa with a letter. The messenger said,
"Kandarpa and Rúpavatí are in the town where Kandarpa's friend Kesata
married Rúpavatí;" and the contents of the letter were to the same
effect; and Kesata communicated the tidings with tears to the father
of Kandarpa.
And the next day Kandarpa's father sent in high glee a messenger
to bring his son, and dismissed Kesata, that he might join his
beloved. And Kesata went with that messenger, who brought the letter,
to that country where Rúpavatí was living in her father's house. There,
after a long absence, he greeted and refreshed the delighted Rúpavatí,
as the cloud does the chátakí. He met Kandarpa once more, and he
married at the instance of Rúpavatí her two before-mentioned friends,
Anurágavatí and Sringáravatí. And then Kesata went with Rúpavatí and
them to his own land, after taking leave of Kandarpa. And Kandarpa
returned to Ratnapura with the messenger, and was once more united
to Sumanas and Anangavatí and his relations. So Kandarpa regained
his beloved Sumanas, and Kesata his beloved Rúpavatí, and they lived
enjoying the good things of this life, each in his own country.
Thus men of firm resolution, though separated by adverse destiny, are
reunited with their dear ones, despising even terrible sufferings,
and taking no account of their interminable duration. So rise up
quickly my friend, let us go; you also will find your wife, if you
search for her; who knows the way of Destiny? I myself regained my
wife alive after she had died.
"Telling me this tale my friend encouraged me; and himself accompanied
me; and so roaming about with him, I reached this land, and here I
saw a mighty elephant and a wild boar. And, (wonderful to say!) I saw
that elephant bring my helpless wife out of his mouth, and swallow her
again; and I followed that elephant, which appeared for a moment and
then disappeared for a long time, and in my search for it I have now,
thanks to my merits, beheld your Majesty here."
When the young merchant had said this, Vikramáditya sent for his wife,
whom he had rescued by killing the elephant, and handed her over
to him. And then the couple, delighted at their marvellous reunion,
recounted their adventures to one another, and their mouths were loud
in praise of the glorious king Vishamasíla.
CHAPTER CXXIV.
Then King Vikramáditya put this question to the friend of the young
merchant, who came with him, "You said that you recovered your wife
alive after she was dead; how could that be? Tell us, good sir, the
whole story at length." When the king said this to the friend of the
young merchant, the latter answered, "Listen, king, if you have any
curiosity about it; I proceed to tell the story."
Story of Chandrasvámin who recovered his wife alive after her death.
I am a young Bráhman of the name of Chandrasvámin, living on that
magnificent grant to Bráhmans, called Brahmasthala, and I have a
beautiful wife in my house. One day I had gone to the village for some
object, by my father's orders, and a kápálika, who had come to beg,
cast eyes on that wife of mine. She caught a fever from the moment
he looked at her, and in the evening she died. Then my relations took
her, and put her on the pyre during the night. And when the pyre was
in full blaze, I returned there from the village; and I heard what
had happened from my family who wept before me.
Then I went near the pyre, and the kápálika came there with the
magic staff dancing [813] on his shoulder, and the booming drum in his
hand. He quenched the flume of the pyre, king, by throwing ashes on it,
[814] and then my wife rose up from the midst of it uninjured. The
kápálika took with him my wife who followed him, drawn by his magic
power, and ran off quickly, and I followed him with my bow and arrows.
And when he reached a cave on the bank of the Ganges, he put the
magic staff down on the ground, and said exultingly to two maidens
who were in it, "She, without whom I could not marry you, though I
had obtained you, has come into my possession; and so my vow has been
successfully accomplished," [815] Saying this he shewed them my wife,
and at that moment I flung his magic staff into the Ganges; and when he
had lost his magic power by the loss of the staff, I reproached him,
exclaiming, "Kápálika, as you wish to rob me of my wife, you shall
live no longer." Then the scoundrel, not seeing his magic staff,
tried to run away; but I drew my bow and killed him with a poisoned
arrow. Thus do heretics, who feign the vows of Siva only for the
pleasure of accomplishing nefarious ends, fall, though their sin has
already sunk them deep enough.
Then I took my wife, and those other two maidens, and I returned
home, exciting the astonishment of my relations. Then I asked those
two maidens to tell me their history, and they gave me this answer,
"We are the daughters respectively of a king and a chief merchant in
Benares, and the kápálika carried us off by the same magic process
by which he carried off your wife, and thanks to you we have been
delivered from the villain without suffering insult." This was their
tale; and the next day I took them to Benares, and handed them over
to their relations, after telling what had befallen them. [816]
And as I was returning thence, I saw this young merchant, who had lost
his wife, and I came here with him. Moreover, I anointed my body with
an ointment that I found in the cave of the kápálika; and, observe,
perfume still exhales from it, even though it has been washed.
"In this sense did I recover my wife arisen from the dead." When
the Bráhman had told this story, the king honoured him and the young
merchant, and sent them on their way. And then that king Vikramáditya,
taking with him Gunavatí, Chandravatí, and Madanasundarí, and having
met his own forces, returned to the city of Ujjayiní, and there he
married Gunavatí and Chandravatí.
Then the king called to mind the figure carved on a pillar that he
had seen in the temple built by Visvakarman, and he gave this order to
the warder, "Let an ambassador be sent to Kalingasena to demand from
him that maiden whose likeness I saw carved on the pillar." When the
warder received this command from the king, he brought before him an
ambassador named Suvigraha, and sent him off with a message.
So the ambassador went to the country of Kalinga, and when he had seen
the king Kalingasena, he delivered to him the message with which he had
been entrusted, which was as follows, "King, the glorious sovereign
Vikramáditya sends you this command, 'You know that every jewel on
the earth comes to me as my due; and you have a pearl of a daughter,
so hand her over to me, and then by my favour you shall enjoy in your
own realm an unopposed sway.'" When the king of Kalinga heard this,
he was very angry, and he said, "Who is this king Vikramáditya? Does he
presume to give me orders and ask for my daughter as a tribute? Blinded
with pride he shall be cast down." When the ambassador heard this
from Kalingasena, he said to him, "How can you, being a servant,
dare to set yourself up against your master? You do not know your
place. What, madman, do you wish to be shrivelled like a moth in the
fire of his wrath?"
When the ambassador had said this, he returned and communicated to king
Vikramáditya that speech of Kalingasena's. Then king Vikramáditya,
being angry, marched out with his forces to attack the king of
Kalinga, and the Vetála Bhútaketu went with him. As he marched along,
the quarters, re-echoing the roar of his army, seemed to say to the
king of Kalinga, "Surrender the maiden quickly," and so he reached
that country. When king Vikramáditya saw the king of Kalinga ready
for battle, he surrounded him with his forces; but then he thought
in his mind, "I shall never be happy without this king's daughter;
and yet how can I kill my own father-in-law? Suppose I have recourse
to some stratagem."
When the king had gone through these reflections, he went with
the Vetála, and by his supernatural power entered the bedchamber
of the king of Kalinga at night, when he was asleep, without being
seen. Then the Vetála woke up the king, and when he was terrified,