The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
its white palaces as if with the peaks of Kailása, come thither in
the ardour of their devotion to the god. This vast city, profound
as the sea, having a splendid emperor for its water, had hundreds of
armies entering it, as hundreds of rivers flow into the sea, and was
the refuge of allied kings, as the sea is of mountains that retain
their wings. [446] In that city there was a king who had the name of
Vikramasinha, [447] a name that thoroughly expressed his character,
for his enemies were like deer and never met him in fight. And he,
because he could never find any enemy to face him, became disgusted
with weapons and the might of his arm, and was inwardly grieved as
he never obtained the joy of battle. Then his minister Amaragupta,
who discovered his longing, said to him incidentally in the course
of conversation--"King, it is not hard for kings to incur guilt,
if through pride in their strong arms, and confidence in their skill
in the use of weapons, they even long for enemies; in this way Bána
in old time, through pride in his thousand arms, propitiated Siva and
asked for an enemy that was a match for him in fight, until at last his
prayer was actually granted, and Vishnu became his enemy, and cut off
his innumerable arms in battle. So you must not shew dissatisfaction
because you do not obtain an opportunity of fighting, and a terrible
enemy must never be desired. If you want to shew here your skill in
weapons and your strength, shew it in the forest an appropriate field
for it, and in hunting. And since kings are not generally exposed to
fatigue, hunting is approved to give them exercise and excitement, but
warlike expeditions are not recommended. Moreover the malignant wild
animals desire that the earth should be depopulated, for this reason
the king should slay them; on this ground too hunting is approved. But
wild animals should not be too unremittingly pursued, for it was
owing to the vice of exclusive devotion to hunting that former kings,
Pándu and others, met destruction." When the wise minister Amaragupta
said this to him, the king Vikramasinha approved the advice saying--"I
will do so." And the next day the king went out of the city to hunt,
to a district beset with horses, footmen and dogs, and where all the
quarters were filled with the pitching of various nets, and he made
the heaven resound with the shouts of joyous huntsmen. And as he was
going out on the back of an elephant, he saw two men sitting together
in private in an empty temple outside the walls. And the king, as
he beheld them from afar, supposed that they were only deliberating
together over something at their leisure, and passed on to the forest
where his hunting was to be. There he was delighted with the drawn
swords, and with the old tigers, and the roaring of lions, and the
scenery, and the elephants. He strewed that ground with pearls fallen
from the nails of elephant-slaying lions whom he killed, resembling the
seeds of his prowess. The deer leaping sideways, being oblique-goers,
[448] went obliquely across his path; his straight-flying arrow easily
transfixing them first, reached afterwards the mark of delight. And
after the king had long enjoyed the sport of hunting, he returned,
as his servants were weary, with slackened bowstring to the city
of Ujjayiní. There he saw those two men, whom he had seen as he was
going out, who had remained the whole time in the temple occupied in
the same way. He thought to himself--"Who are these, and why do they
deliberate so long? Surely they must be spies, having a long talk
over secrets." So he sent his warder, and had those men captured and
brought into his presence, and then thrown into prison. And the next
day he had them brought into his judgement-hall, and asked them--"Who
are you and why did you deliberate together so long?" When the king
in person asked them this, they entreated him to spare their lives,
and one of these young men began to say; "Hear, O king, I will now
tell the whole story as it happened.
"There lived a Bráhman, of the name of Karabhaka, in this very city
of yours. I, whom you see here, am the son of that learned student
of the Vedas, born by his propitiating the god of fire in order to
obtain a heroic son. And, when my father went to heaven, and his wife
followed him, [449] I being a mere boy, though I had learned the
sciences, abandoned the course of life suited to my caste, because
I was friendless. And I set myself to practise gaming and the use
of arms; what boy does not become self-willed if he is not kept in
order by some superior? And, having passed my childhood in this way,
I acquired overweening confidence in my prowess, and went one day
to the forest to practise archery. And while I was thus engaged,
a bride came out of the city in a covered palanquin, surrounded by
many attendants of the bridegroom. And suddenly an elephant, that had
broken its chain, came from some quarter or other at that very moment,
and attacked that bride in its fury. And through fear of that elephant,
all those cowardly attendants and her husband with them deserted the
bride, and fled in all directions. When I saw that, I immediately said
to myself in my excitement,--'What! have these miserable wretches left
this unfortunate woman alone? So I must defend this unprotected lady
from this elephant. For what is the use of life or courage, unless
employed to succour the unfortunate?' Thus reflecting I raised a shout
and ran towards that huge elephant; and the elephant, abandoning the
woman, charged down upon me. Then I, before the eyes of that terrified
woman, shouted and ran, and so drew off that elephant to a distance,
at last I got hold of a bough of a tree thickly covered with leaves,
which had been broken off, and covering myself with it, I went into the
middle of the tree; and placing the bough in front of me, I escaped by
a dexterous oblique movement, while the elephant trampled the bough
to pieces. Then I quickly went to that lady, who remained terrified
there, and asked her whether she had escaped without injury. She,
when she saw me, said with afflicted and yet joyful manner; 'How
can I be said to be uninjured, now that I have been bestowed on this
coward, who has deserted me in such straits, and fled somewhere or
other; but so far at any rate I am uninjured, that I again behold
you unharmed. So my husband is nothing to me; you henceforth are my
husband, by whom regardless of your life, I have been delivered from
the jaws of death. And here I see my husband coming with his servants,
so follow us slowly; for when we get an opportunity, you and I will
elope somewhere together.' When she said this, I consented. I ought to
have thought--'Though this woman is beautiful, and flings herself at my
head, yet she is the wife of another; what have I to do with her?' But
this is the course of calm self-restraint, not of ardent youth. And
in a moment her husband came up and greeted her, and she proceeded
to continue her journey with him and his servants. And I, without
being detected, followed her through her long journey, being secretly
supplied with provisions for the journey by her, though I passed for
some one unconnected with her. And she, throughout the journey, falsely
asserted that she suffered pain in her limbs, from a strain produced
by falling in her terror at the elephant, and so avoided even touching
her husband. A passionate woman, like a female snake, terrible from
the condensed venom she accumulates within, will never, if injured,
neglect to wreak her vengeance. And in course of time we reached the
city of Lohanagara, where was the house of the husband of that woman,
who lived by trading. And we all remained during that day in a temple
outside the walls. And there I met my friend this second Bráhman. And
though we had never met before, we felt a confidence in one another
at first sight; the heart of creatures recognises friendships formed
in a previous birth. Then I told him all my secret. When he heard it,
he said to me of his own accord; 'Keep the matter quiet, I know of a
device by which you can attain the object for which you came here;
I know here the sister of this lady's husband. She is ready to fly
from this place with me, and take her wealth with her. So with her
help I will accomplish your object for you.'
"When the Bráhman had said this to me, he departed, and secretly
informed the merchant's wife's sister-in-law of the whole matter. And
on the next day the sister-in-law, according to arrangement, came
with her brother's wife and introduced her into the temple. And while
we were there, she made my friend at that very time, which was the
middle of the day, put on the dress of her brother's wife. And she
took him so disguised into the city, and went into the house in which
her brother lived, after arranging what we were to do. But I left
the temple, and fleeing with the merchant's wife dressed as a man,
reached at last this city of Ujjayiní. And her sister-in-law at night
fled with my friend from that house, in which there had been a feast,
and so the people were in a drunken sleep.
"And then he came with her by stealthy journeys to this city; so
we met here. In this way we two have obtained our two wives in the
bloom of youth, the sister-in-law and her brother's wife, who bestowed
themselves on us out of affection. Consequently, king, we are afraid
to dwell anywhere; for whose mind is at ease after performing deeds
of reckless temerity? So the king saw us yesterday from a distance,
while we were debating about a place to dwell in, and how we should
subsist. And your majesty, seeing us, had us brought and thrown into
prison on the suspicion of being thieves, and to-day we have been
questioned about our history, and I have just told it; now it is for
your highness to dispose of us at pleasure." When one of them had
said this, the king Vikramasinha said to those two Bráhmans,--"I am
satisfied, do not be afraid, remain in this city, and I will give you
abundance of wealth." When the king had said this, he gave them as
much to live on as they wished, and they lived happily in his court
accompanied by their wives.
"Thus prosperity dwells for men even in questionable deeds, if they
are the outcome of great courage, and thus kings, being satisfied,
take pleasure in giving to discreet men who are rich in daring. And
thus this whole created world with the gods and demons will always
reap various fruits, corresponding exactly to their own stock of deeds
good or bad, performed in this or in a former birth. So rest assured,
queen, that the flame which was seen by you falling from heaven in your
dream, and apparently entering your womb, is some creature of divine
origin, that owing to some influence of its works has been conceived
in you." The pregnant queen Tárádattá, when she heard this from the
mouth of her own husband Kalingadatta, was exceedingly delighted.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Then the queen Tárádattá, the consort of king Kalingadatta in
Takshasilá, slowly became oppressed with the burden of her unborn
child. And she, now that her delivery was near, being pale of
countenance, with tremulous eyeballs, [450] resembled the East
in which the pale streak of the young moon is about to rise. And
there was soon born from her a daughter excelling all others, like a
specimen of the Creator's power to produce all beauty. The lights kept
burning to protect the child against evil spirits, blazing with oil,
[451] were eclipsed by her beauty, and darkened, as if through grief
that a son of equal beauty had not been born instead. And her father
Kalingadatta, when he saw her born, beautiful though she was, was
filled with despondency at the disappointment of his hope to obtain
a son like her. Though he divined that she was of heavenly origin, he