The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
become possessed of this spell enabling him to come down to earth,
descended from the sky-path in his own city of Kányakubja. Then the
king hearing that he had come down from heaven, possessed of full
prosperity, with a city, went in person to meet him out of curiosity,
and Sundaraka, when recognized and questioned, knowing what to say on
all occasions, informed the king of all his own adventures brought
about by Kálarátri. Then the king sent for Kálarátri and questioned
her, and she fearlessly confessed her improper conduct, and the king
was angry and made up his mind to cut off her ears, but she, when
seized, disappeared before the eyes of all the spectators. Then the
king forbade her to live in his kingdom, and Sundaraka having been
honourably treated by him returned to the air.
Having said this to her husband the king Ádityaprabha, the queen
Kuvalayávalí went on to say; "King, such magic powers, produced by the
spells of witches, do exist, and this thing happened in my father's
kingdom, and it is famous in the world, and, as I told you at first,
I am a pupil of Kálarátri's, but because I am devoted to my husband,
I possess greater power even than she did. And to-day you saw me
just at the time when I had performed ceremonies to ensure your
welfare, and was endeavouring to attract by a spell a man to offer
as a victim. So do you enter now into our practice, and set your
foot on the head of all kings, conquering them by magic power. When
he heard this proposal, the king at first rejected it, saying, "What
propriety is there in a king's connecting himself with the eating of
human flesh, the practice of witches?" But when the queen was bent on
committing suicide, he consented, for how can men who are attracted
by the objects of passion remain in the good path? Then she made him
enter into the circle previously consecrated, and said to the king,
after he had taken an oath; "I attempted to draw hither as a victim
that Bráhman named Phalabhúti, who is so intimate with you, but the
drawing him hither is a difficult task, so it is the best way to
initiate some cook in our rites, that he may himself slay him and
cook him. And you must not feel any compunction about it, because
by eating a sacrificial offering of his flesh, after the ceremonies
are complete, the enchantment will be perfect, for he is a Bráhman
of the highest caste." When his beloved said this to him, the king,
though afraid of the sin, a second time consented. Alas! terrible is
compliance with women! Then that royal couple had the cook summoned,
whose name was Sáhasika, and after encouraging him, and initiating him,
they both said to him,--"Whoever comes to you to-morrow morning and
says--'The king and queen will eat together to-day, so get some food
ready quickly,' him you must slay, and make for us secretly a savoury
dish of his flesh." When the cook heard this, he consented, and went
to his own house. And the next morning, when Phalabhúti arrived, the
king said to him, "Go and tell the cook Sáhasika in the kitchen, 'the
king together with the queen will eat to-day a savoury mess, therefore
prepare as soon as possible a splendid dish.'" Phalabhúti said, "I
will do so" and went out. When he was outside, the prince whose name
was Chandraprabha, came to him, and said--"Have made for me this very
day with this gold a pair of earrings, like those you had made before
for my noble father." When the prince said this, Phalabhúti, in order
to please him, went that moment, as he was commissioned, to get the
earrings made, and the prince readily went with the king's message,
which Phalabhúti told him, alone to the kitchen; when he got there and
told the king's message, the cook Sáhasika, true to his agreement,
immediately killed him with a knife, and made a dish of his flesh,
which the king and queen, after performing their ceremonies, ate,
not knowing the truth; [317] and after spending that night in remorse,
the next morning the king saw Phalabhúti arrive with the earrings in
his hand.
So, being bewildered, he questioned him about the earrings immediately;
and when Phalabhúti had told him his story, the king fell on the
earth, and cried out; "Alas my son!" blaming the queen and himself,
and when his ministers questioned him, he told them the whole story,
and repeated what Phalabhúti had said every day--"'The doer of
good will obtain good, and the doer of evil, evil.' Often the harm
that one wishes to do to another, recoils on one's self, as a ball
thrown against a wall rebounding frequently; thus we, wicked ones,
desiring to slay a Bráhman, have brought about our own son's death,
and devoured his flesh." After the king had said this and informed
his ministers, who stood with their faces fixed on the earth, of the
whole transaction, and after he had anointed that very Phalabhúti as
king in his place, he made a distribution of alms and then, having
no son, entered the fire with his wife to purify himself from guilt,
though already consumed by the fire of remorse: and Phalabhúti, having
obtained the royal dignity, ruled the earth; thus good or evil done
by a man is made to return upon himself.
Having related the above tale in the presence of the king of Vatsa,
Yaugandharáyana again said to that king; "If Brahmadatta therefore
were to plot against you, O great king, who, after conquering him,
treated him kindly, he ought to be slain." When the chief minister
had said this to him, the king of Vatsa approved of it, and rising up
went to perform the duties of the day, and the day following he set out
from Lávánaka to go to his own city Kausámbí, having accomplished his
objects in effecting the conquest of the regions; in course of time
the lord of earth accompanied by his retinue reached his own city,
which seemed to be dancing with delight, imitating with banners
uplifted the taper arms [318] of the dancing girl. So he entered
the city, producing, at every step, in the lotus-garden composed
of the eyes of the women of the city, the effect of the rising of a
breeze. And the king entered his palace, sung by minstrels, praised
by bards, and worshipped by kings. Then the monarch of Vatsa laid
his commands on the kings of every land, who bowed before him, and
triumphantly ascended that throne, the heirloom of his race, which
he had found long ago in the deposit of treasure. And the heaven was
filled with the combined high and deep echoes of the sound of the
drums, which accompanied the auspicious ceremonies on that occasion,
like simultaneous shouts of applause uttered by the guardians of the
world, each in his several quarter, being delighted with the prime
minister of the king of Vatsa. Then the monarch, who was free from
avarice, distributed to the Bráhmans all kinds of wealth acquired by
the conquest of the world, and after great festivities, satisfied the
desires of the company of kings and of his own ministers. Then in
that city filled with the noise of drums resembling the thunder of
the clouds, while the king was raining benefits on the fields [319]
according to each man's desert, the people, expecting great fruit
in the form of corn, kept high festival in every house. Having thus
conquered the world, that victorious king devolved on Rumanvat and
Yaugandharáyana the burden of his realm, and lived at ease there with
Vásavadattá and Padmávatí. So he, being praised by excellent bards,
seated between those two queens as if they were the goddesses of Fame
and Fortune, enjoyed the rising of the moon white as his own glory,
and continually drank wine as he had swallowed the might of his foes.
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER XXI.
Victory to the conqueror of obstacles, [320] who marks with a line like
the parting of the hair, the principal mountains [321] by the mighty
fanning of his ear-flaps, pointing out, as it were, a path of success!
Then Udayana, the king of Vatsa, remaining in Kausámbí, enjoyed the
conquered earth which was under one umbrella; and the happy monarch
devolved the care of his empire upon Yaugandharáyana and Rumanvat, and
addicted himself to pleasure only in the society of Vasantaka. Himself
playing on the lute, in the company of the queen Vásavadattá and
Padmávatí, he was engaged in a perpetual concert. While the notes of
his lyre were married to the soft sweet song of the queens, the rapid
movement of his executing finger alone indicated the difference of
the sounds. And while the roof of the palace was white with moonlight
as with his own glory, he drank wine in plenteous streams as he had
swallowed the pride of his enemies [322]; beautiful women brought him,
as he sat retired, in vessels of gold, wine flaming with rosy glow,
[323] as it were the water of his appointment as ruler in the empire
of love; he divided between the two queens the cordial liquor red,
delicious, and pellucid, in which danced the reflection of their faces;
as he did his own heart, impassioned, enraptured and transparent,
in which the same image was found; his eyes were never sated with
resting on the faces of those queens, which had the eyebrows arched,
and blushed with the rosy hue of love, though envy and anger were
far from them; the scene of his banquet, filled with many crystal
goblets of wine, gleamed like a lake of white lotuses tinged red with
the rising sun. And occasionally, accompanied by huntsmen, clad in
a vest dark green as the palása tree, he ranged, bow and arrows in
hand, the forest full of wild beasts, which was of the same colour
as himself. He slew with arrows herds of wild boars besmeared with
mud, as the sun disperses with its dense rays the masses of darkness;
when he ran towards them, the antelopes fleeing in terror, seemed like
the sidelong glances of the quarters previously conquered [324] by him.
And when he slew the buffaloes, the ground, red with blood, looked
like a bed of red lotuses, come to thank him humbly for delivering it
from the goring of their horns. When the lions too were transfixed by
his javelins falling in their open mouths, and their lives issued
from them with a suppressed roar, he was delighted. In that wood
he employed dogs in the ravines, and nets in the glades; this was
the method of his pursuit of the chase in which he relied only
upon his own resources. While he was thus engaged in his pleasant
enjoyments, one day the hermit Nárada came to him as he was in the
hall of audience, diffusing a halo with the radiance of his body,
like the sun, the orb of heaven, descending therefrom out of love
for the Solar dynasty. The king welcomed him, inclining before him
again and again, and the sage stood a moment as if pleased, and said
to that king, "Listen, O king, I will tell you a story in few words;
you had an ancestor once, a king of the name of Pándu; he like you
had two noble wives; one wife of the mighty prince was named Kuntí
and the other Mádrí. That Pándu conquered this sea-engirdled earth,
and was very prosperous, and being addicted to the vice of hunting
he went one day to the forest. There he let fly an arrow and slew
a hermit of the name of Arindama, who was sporting with his wife in
the form of a deer. [325] That hermit abandoned that deer-form, and
with his breath struggling in his throat cursed that Pándu, who in
his despair had flung away his bow; 'Since I have been slain while
sporting at will by thee, inconsiderate one, thou also shalt die in
the embraces of thy wife.' Having been thus cursed, Pándu, through
fear of its effect, abandoned the desire of enjoyment, and accompanied
by his wives lived in a tranquil grove of ascetic quietism. While he
was there, one day impelled by that curse, he suddenly approached his
beloved Mádrí, and died. So you may rest assured that the occupation
called hunting is a madness of kings, for other kings have been done