The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
though of firm soul, being deprived of Unmádiní; but what will become
of the lord of Vatsa without Vásavadattá? When Yaugandharáyana heard
this from Rumanvat, he answered; "Affliction is bravely endured by
kings who have their eyes firmly fixed on their duty. Did not Ráma
when commissioned by the gods, who were obliged to resort to that
contrivance, to kill Rávana, endure the pain of separation from queen
Sítá? When he heard this, Rumanvat said in answer--"Such as Ráma are
gods, their souls can endure all things. But the thing is intolerable
to men; in proof whereof listen to the following tale.
Story of the loving couple who died of separation.
There is on this earth a great city rich in jewels, named Mathurá. In
it there lived a certain young merchant, called Illaka. And he had a
dear wife whose mind was devoted to him alone. Once on a time, while he
was dwelling with her, the young merchant determined to go to another
country on account of the exigencies of his affairs. And that wife of
his wished to go with him. For when women are passionately attached to
any one, they cannot endure to be separated from him. And then that
young merchant set out, having offered the usual preliminary prayer
for success in his undertaking, and did not take with him that wife of
his, though she had dressed herself for the journey. She looking after
him, when he had started, with tears in her eyes, stood supporting
herself against the panel of the door of the courtyard. Then, he
being out of sight, she was no longer able to endure her grief; but
she was too timid to follow him. So her breath left her body. And as
soon as the young merchant came to know of that, he returned and to
his horror found that dear wife of his a corpse, with pale though
lovely complexion, set off by her waving locks, like the spirit of
beauty that tenants the moon fallen down to the earth in the day
during her sleep. [205] So he took her in his arms and wept over her,
and immediately the vital spirits left his body, which was on fire
with the flame of grief, as if they were afraid to remain. So that
married couple perished by mutual separation, and therefore we must
take care that the king is not separated from the queen." When he had
said this, Rumanvat ceased, with his mind full of apprehension, but
the wise Yaugandharáyana, that ocean of calm resolution answered him;
"I have arranged the whole plan, and the affairs of kings often require
such steps to be taken, in proof of it, hear the following tale:"
Story of Punyasena.
There lived long ago in Ujjayiní a king named Punyasena, and once on
a time a powerful sovereign came and attacked him. Then his resolute
ministers, seeing that that king was hard to conquer, spread everywhere
a false report that their own sovereign Punyasena was dead; and they
placed him in concealment, and burnt some other man's corpse with
all the ceremonies appropriate to a king, and they proposed to the
hostile king through an ambassador that, as they had now no king,
he should come and be their king. The hostile monarch was pleased and
consented, and then the ministers assembled accompanied by soldiers,
and proceeded to storm his camp. And the enemy's army being destroyed,
Punyasena's ministers brought him out of concealment, and having
recovered their power put that hostile king to death.
"Such necessities will arise in monarch's affairs, therefore let
us resolutely accomplish this business of the king's by spreading
a report of the queen's having been burnt." When he heard this from
Yaugandharáyana, who had made up his mind, Rumanvat said; "If this
is resolved upon, let us send for Gopálaka the queen's respected
brother, and let us take all our measures duly, after consultation
with him." Then Yaugandharáyana said, "So be it," and Rumanvat
allowed himself to be guided, in determining what was to be done,
by the confidence which he placed in his colleague. The next day,
these dexterous ministers sent off a messenger of their own to bring
Gopálaka, on the pretext that his relations longed to see him. And as
he had only departed before on account of urgent business, Gopálaka
came at the request of the messenger, seeming like an incarnate
festival. And the very day he came, Yaugandharáyana took him by night
to his own house together with Rumanvat, and there he told him of that
daring scheme which he wished to undertake, all of which he had before
deliberated about together with that Rumanvat; and Gopálaka desiring
the good of the king of Vatsa consented to the scheme though he knew
it would bring sorrow to his sister, for the mind of good men is ever
fixed upon duty. Then Rumanvat again said,--"All this is well planned,
but when the king of Vatsa hears that his wife is burnt, he will be
inclined to yield up his breath, and how is he to be prevented from
doing so? This is a matter which ought to be considered. For though
all the usual politic expedients may advantageously be employed,
the principal element of sound state-craft is the averting of
misfortune." Then Yaugandharáyana who had reflected on everything
that was to be done, said, "There need be no anxiety about this,
for the queen is a princess, the younger sister of Gopálaka, and
dearer to him than his life, and when the king of Vatsa sees how
little afflicted Gopálaka is, he will think to himself, 'Perhaps the
queen may be alive after all,' and so will be able to control his
feelings. Moreover he is of heroic disposition, and the marriage of
Padmávatí will be quickly got through, and then we can soon bring the
queen out of concealment." Then Yaugandharáyana, and Gopálaka, and
Rumanvat having made up their minds to this, deliberated as follows:
"Let us adopt the artifice of going to Lávánaka with the king and
queen, for that district is a border-district near the kingdom
of Magadha. And because it contains admirable hunting-grounds,
it will tempt the king to absent himself from the palace, so we
can set the women's apartments there on fire and carry out the plan
[206] on which we have determined. And by an artifice we will take
the queen and leave her in the palace of Padmávatí, in order that
Padmávatí herself may be a witness to the queen's virtuous behaviour
in a state of concealment." Having thus deliberated together during
the night, they all, with Yaugandharáyana at their head, entered
the king's palace on the next day. Then Rumanvat made the following
representation to the king, "O king, it is a long time since we have
gone to Lávánaka, and it is a very delightful place, moreover you will
find capital hunting-grounds there, and grass for the horses can easily
be obtained. And the king of Magadha, being so near, afflicts all that
district. So let us go there for the sake of defending it, as well as
for our own enjoyment." And the king, when he heard this, having his
mind always set on enjoyment, determined to go to Lávánaka together
with Vásavadattá. The next day, the journey having been decided on,
and the auspicious hour having been fixed by the astrologers, suddenly
the hermit Nárada came to visit the monarch.
He illuminated the region with his splendour, as he descended from
the midst of heaven, and gave a feast to the eyes of all spectators,
seeming as if he were the moon come down out of affection towards his
own descendants. [207] After accepting the usual hospitable attentions,
the hermit graciously gave to the king, who bowed humbly before him,
a garland from the Párijáta [208] tree. And he congratulated the
queen, by whom he was politely received, promising her that she
should have a son, who should be a portion of Cupid [209] and king
of all the Vidyádharas. And then he said to the king of Vatsa, while
Yaugandharáyana was standing by, "O king, the sight of your wife
Vásavadattá has strangely brought something to my recollection. In
old time you had for ancestors Yudhishthira and his brothers. And
those five had one wife between them, Draupadí by name. And she,
like Vásavadattá, was matchless in beauty. Then, fearing that her
beauty would do mischief, I said to them, you must avoid jealousy,
for that is the seed of calamities; in proof of it, listen to the
following tale, which I will relate to you. [210]
Story of Sunda and Upasunda.
There were two brothers, Asuras by race, Sunda and Upasunda, hard to
overcome, inasmuch as they surpassed the three worlds in valour. And
Brahmá, wishing to destroy them, gave an order to Visvakarman, [211]
and had constructed a heavenly woman named Tilottamá, in order to
behold whose beauty even Siva truly became four-faced, so as to look
four ways at once, while she was devoutly circumambulating him. She, by
the order of Brahmá, went to Sunda and Upasunda, while they were in the
garden of Kailása, in order to seduce them. And both those two Asuras
distracted with love, seized the fair one at the same time by both her
arms, the moment they saw her near them. And as they were dragging her
off in mutual opposition, they soon came to blows, and both of them
were destroyed. To whom is not the attractive object called woman the
cause of misfortune? And you, though many, have one love, Draupadí,
therefore you must without fail avoid quarrelling about her. And by my
advice always observe this rule with respect to her. When she is with
the eldest, she must be considered a mother by the younger, and when
she is with the youngest, she must be considered a daughter-in-law by
the eldest. Your ancestors, O king, accepted that speech of mine with
unanimous consent, having their minds fixed on salutary counsels. And
they were my friends, and it is through love for them that I have come
to visit you here, king of Vatsa, therefore I give you this advice. Do
you follow the counsel of your ministers, as they followed mine,
and in a short time you will gain great success. For some time you
will suffer grief, but you must not be too much distressed about it,
for it will end in happiness." After the hermit Nárada, so clever in
indirectly intimating future prosperity, had said this duly to the
king of Vatsa, he immediately disappeared. And then Yaugandharáyana
and all the other ministers, auguring from the speech of that great
hermit that the scheme they had in view was about to succeed, became
exceedingly zealous about carrying it into effect.
CHAPTER XVI.
Then Yaugandharáyana and the other ministers managed to conduct the
king of Vatsa with his beloved, by the above-mentioned stratagem,
to Lávánaka. The king arrived at that place, which, by the roar of
the host echoing through it, seemed, as it were, to proclaim that
the ministers' object would be successfully attained. And the king
of Magadha, when he heard that the lord of Vatsa had arrived there
with a large following, trembled, anticipating attack. But he being
wise, sent an ambassador to Yaugandharáyana, and that excellent
minister well-versed in his duties, received him gladly. The king
of Vatsa for his part, while staying in that place, ranged every
day the wide-extended forest for the sake of sport. One day, the
king having gone to hunt, the wise Yaugandharáyana accompanied by
Gopálaka, having arranged what was to be done, and taking with him
also Rumanvat and Vasantaka, went secretly to the queen Vásavadattá,
who bowed at their approach. There he used various representations to
persuade her to assist in furthering the king's interests, though she
had been previously informed of the whole affair by her brother. And
she agreed to the proposal, though it inflicted on her the pain of
separation. What indeed is there which women of good family, who are
attached to their husbands, will not endure? Thereupon the skilful
Yaugandharáyana made her assume the appearance of a Bráhman woman,