The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
the doctrine of salvation." Thus the king spoke and dismissed him,
and the merchant's son fell at his feet and went home rejoicing to his
father's house, having attained all his objects. This Kalingadatta,
who superintended in this way the religion of his subjects, had a wife
named Tárádattá, of equal birth with the king, who being politic and
well-conducted, was such an ornament to the king as language is to
a poet, who delights in numerous illustrations. She was meritorious
for her bright qualities and was inseparable from that beloved king,
being to him what the moonlight is to the moon, the receptacle of
nectar. The king lived happily there with that queen, and passed his
days like Indra with Sachí in heaven.
Story of the Apsaras Surabhidattá.
At this point of my tale Indra, for some cause or other, had a
great feast in heaven. All the Apsarases assembled there to dance,
except one beautiful Apsaras named Surabhidattá, who was not to be
seen there. Then Indra by his divine power of insight perceived her
associating in secret with a certain Vidyádhara in Nandana. When Indra
saw it, wrath arose in his bosom, and he thought--"Ah! these two,
blinded with love, are both wicked: the Apsaras, because forgetting
us she acts in a wilful manner, the Vidyádhara, because he enters the
domain of the gods and commits improprieties. Or rather, what fault
is that miserable Vidyádhara guilty of? For she has enticed him here,
ensnaring him with her beauty. A lovely one will sweep away with the
sea of her beauty, flowing between the lofty banks of her breasts,
even one who can restrain his passions. Was not even Siva disturbed
long ago when he beheld Tilottamá, whom the Creator made by taking an
atom from all the noblest beings? [439] And did not Visvámitra leave
his asceticism when he beheld Menaká? And did not Yayáti come to old
age for love of Sarmishtá? So this young Vidyádhara has committed no
crime in allowing himself to be allured by an Apsaras with her beauty,
which is able to bewilder the three worlds. [440] But this heavenly
nymph is in fault, wicked creature, void of virtue, who has deserted
the gods, and introduced this fellow into Nandana." Thus reflecting,
the lover of Ahalyá [441] spared the Vidyádhara youth, but cursed
that Apsaras in the following words: "Wicked one, take upon thyself
a mortal nature, but after thou hast obtained a daughter not sprung
from the womb, and hast accomplished the object of the gods, thou
shalt return to this heaven."
In the meanwhile Tárádattá, the consort of that king in the city
of Takshasilá, reached the period favourable for procreation. And
Surabhidattá, the Apsaras who had been degraded from heaven by the
curse of Indra, was conceived in her, giving beauty to her whole
body. Then Tárádattá beheld in a dream a flame descending from
heaven and entering into her womb; and in the morning she described
with astonishment her dream to her husband, the king Kalingadatta;
and he being pleased said to her,--"Queen, heavenly beings owing to
a curse fall into human births, so I am persuaded that this is some
divine being conceived in you. For beings, bound by various works,
good and evil, are ever revolving in the state of mundane existence
in these three worlds, to receive fruits blessed and miserable." When
the queen was thus addressed by the king, she took the opportunity of
saying to him; "It is true, actions, good and bad, have a wonderful
power, producing the perception of joy and sorrow, [442] and in proof
of it I will tell you this illustration, listen to me."
Story of king Dharmadatta and his wife Nágasrí.
There once lived a king named Dharmadatta, the lord of Kosala; he had
a queen named Nágasrí, who was devoted to her husband and was called
Arundhatí on the earth, as, like her, she was the chief of virtuous
women. And in course of time, O slayer of your enemies, I was born
as the daughter of that king by that queen; then, while I was a mere
child, that mother of mine suddenly remembered her former birth and
said to her husband; "O king, I have suddenly to-day remembered my
former birth; it is disagreeable to me not to tell it, but if I do
tell it, it will cause my death, because they say that, if a person
suddenly remembers his or her former birth and tells it, it surely
brings death. Therefore, king, I feel excessively despondent." When
his queen said this to him, the king answered her; "My beloved, I, like
you, have suddenly remembered my former birth; therefore tell me yours,
and I will tell you mine, let what will be, be; for who can alter the
decree of fate." When thus urged by her husband, the queen said to him,
"If you press the matter, king, then I will tell you, listen.
"In my former birth I was a well-conducted female slave in this very
land, in the house of a certain Bráhman named Mádhava. And in that
birth I had a husband named Devadása, an excellent hired servant in
the house of a certain merchant. And so we two dwelled there, having
built a house that suited us, living on the cooked rice brought from
the houses of our respective masters. A water vessel and a pitcher,
a broom and a brazier, and I and my husband, formed three couples. We
lived happy and contented in our house into which the demon of
quarrelling never entered, eating the little food that remained over
after we had made offerings to the gods, the manes and guests.
"And any clothes which either of us had over, we gave to some poor
person or other. Then there arose a grievous famine in our country,
and owing to that the allowance of food, which we had to receive every
day, began to come to us in small quantities. Then our bodies became
attenuated by hunger, and we began to despond in mind, when once on a
time at meal-time there arrived a weary Bráhman guest. To him we both
gave all our own food, as much as we had, though we were in danger of
our lives. When the Bráhman had eaten and departed, my husband's breath
left him, as if angry that he respected a guest more than it. And then
I heaped up in honour of my husband a suitable pyre, and ascended it,
and so laid down the load of my own calamity. Then I was born in a
royal family, and I became your queen, for the tree of good deeds
produces to the righteous inconceivably glorious fruit." When his
queen said this to him, the king Dharmadatta said--"Come, my beloved,
I am that husband of thine in a former birth; I was that very Devadása
the merchant's servant, for I have remembered this moment this former
existence of mine." Having said this, and mentioned the tokens of
his own identity, the king, despondent and yet glad, suddenly went
with his queen to heaven.
"In this way my parents went to another world, and my mother's sister
brought me to her own house to rear me, and while I was unmarried,
there came there a certain Bráhman guest, and my mother's sister
ordered me to wait on him. And I diligently strove to please him
as Kuntí to please Durvásas, and owing to a boon conferred by him,
I obtained you, a virtuous husband. Thus good fortune is the result
of virtue, owing to which my parents were both born at the same time
in royal families, and also remembered their former birth." Having
heard this speech of the queen Tárádattá, the king Kalingadatta,
who was exclusively devoted to righteousness, answered her, "It is
true, a trifling act of righteousness duly performed will bring much
fruit, and in proof of this, O queen, hear the ancient tale of the
seven Bráhmans."
Story of the seven Bráhmans who devoured a cow in time of famine. [443]
Long ago, in a city called Kundina, a certain Bráhman teacher
had for pupils seven sons of Bráhmans. Then that teacher, under
pressure of famine, sent those pupils to ask his father-in-law,
who was rich in cows, to give him one. And those pupils of his went,
with their bellies pinched by hunger, to his father-in-law, who dwelt
in another land, and asked him, as their teacher had ordered them,
for a cow. He gave them one cow to support them, but the miserly
fellow did not give them food, though they were hungry. Then they
took the cow, and as they were returning and had accomplished half
the journey, being excessively pained by hunger, they fell exhausted
on the earth. They said--"Our teacher's house is far off, and we
are afflicted by calamity far from home, and food is hard to obtain
everywhere, so it is all over with our lives. And in the same way
this cow is certain to die in this wilderness without water, wood,
or human beings, and our teacher will not derive even the smallest
advantage from it. So let us support our lives with its flesh, and
quickly restore our teacher and his family with what remains over:
for it is a time of sore distress." Having thus deliberated, those
seven students treated that cow as a victim, and sacrificed it on the
spot according to the system prescribed in the sacred treatises. After
sacrificing to the gods and manes, and eating its flesh according to
the prescribed method, they went and took what remained of it to their
teacher. They bowed before him, and told him all that they had done,
to the letter, and he was pleased with them, because they told the
truth, though they had committed a fault. And after seven days they
died of famine, but because they told the truth on that occasion,
they were born again with the power of remembering their former birth.
"Thus even a small germ of merit, watered with the water of holy
aspiration, bears fruit to men in general, as a seed to cultivators,
but the same corrupted by the water of impure aspiration bears fruit in
the form of misfortune, and à propos of this I will tell you another
tale, listen!"
Story of the two ascetics, one a Bráhman the other a Chandála.
Once on a time two men remained for the same length of time fasting
on the banks of the Ganges, one a Bráhman and the other a Chandála. Of
those two, the Bráhman being overpowered with hunger, and seeing some
Nishádas [444] come that way bringing fish and eating them, thus
reflected in his folly--"O happy in the world are these fishermen,
sons of female slaves though they be, for they eat to their fill
of the fresh meat of fish!" But the other, who was a Chandála,
thought, the moment he saw those fishermen, "Out on these destroyers
of life, and devourers of raw flesh! So why should I stand here and
behold their faces?" Saying this to himself, he closed his eyes and
remained buried in his own thoughts. And in course of time those
two, the Bráhman and the Chandála, died of starvation; the Bráhman
was eaten by dogs on the bank, the Chandála rotted in the water
of the Ganges. So that Bráhman, not having disciplined his spirit,
was born in the family of a fisherman, but owing to the virtue of the
holy place, he remembered his former existence. As for that Chandála,
who possessed self-control, and whose mind was not marred by passion,
he was born as a king in a palace on that very bank of the Ganges,
and recollected his former birth. And of those two, who were born
with a remembrance of their former existence, the one suffered misery
being a fisherman, the other being a king enjoyed happiness.
"Such is the root of the tree of virtue; according to the purity
or impurity of a man's heart is without doubt the fruit which he
receives." Having said this to the queen Tárádattá, king Kalingadatta
again said to her in the course of conversation,--"Moreover actions
which are really distinguished by great courage produce fruit, since
prosperity follows on courage; and to illustrate this I will tell
the following wonderful tale. Listen!"
Story of king Vikramasinha and the two Bráhmans.
There is in Avanti a city named Ujjayiní, famous in the world,
which is the dwelling-place of Siva, [445] and which gleams with