The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
is this that you have done, through desire of enjoyment? Ill-conducted
one, endure now punishment in this place." When Jihvá heard this, she
thought in her terror, that she had been discovered by this wise man,
and by an artifice she managed to get in where he was, and falling
at his feet, she said to that supposed sage;--"Bráhman, here I am,
that Jihvá whom you have discovered to be the thief of the wealth,
and after I took it, I buried it in the earth in a garden behind
the palace, under a pomegranate tree. So spare me, and receive the
small quantity of gold which is in my possession." When Harisarman
heard that, he said to her proudly, "Depart, I know all this; I
know the past, present and future: but I will not denounce you,
being a miserable creature that has implored my protection. But
whatever gold is in your possession you must give back to me." When
he said this to the maid, she consented and departed quickly. But
Harisarman reflected in his astonishment; "Fate, if propitious,
brings about, as if in sport, a thing that cannot be accomplished,
for in this matter when calamity was near, success has unexpectedly
been attained by me. While I was blaming my tongue (jihvá), the thief
Jihvá suddenly flung herself at my feet. Secret crimes I see, manifest
themselves by means of fear." In these reflections he passed the night
happily in the chamber. And in the morning he brought the king by some
skilful parade of pretended knowledge into the garden, and led him up
to the treasure, which was buried there and he said that the thief had
escaped with a part of it. Then the king was pleased and proceeded to
give him villages. But the minister, named Devajnánin, whispered in the
king's ear, "How can a man possess such knowledge unattainable by men,
without having studied treatises; so you may be certain that this is
a specimen of the way he makes a dishonest livelihood, by having a
secret intelligence with thieves. So it will be better to test him
by some new artifice." Then the king of his own accord brought a new
covered pitcher into which he had thrown a frog, and said to that
Harisarman--"Bráhman, if you can guess what there is in this pitcher,
I will do you great honour to-day." When the Bráhman Harisarman heard
that, he thought that his last hour had come, and he called to mind
the pet name of frog which his father had given him in his childhood
in sport, and impelled by the deity he apostrophized himself by it,
lamenting his hard fate, and suddenly exclaimed there--"This is a fine
pitcher for you, frog, since suddenly it has become the swift destroyer
of your helpless self in this place." The people there, when they
heard that, made a tumult of applause, because his speech chimed in
so well with the object presented to him, and murmured,--"Ah! a great
sage, he knows even about the frog!" Then the king, thinking that
this was all due to knowledge of divination, was highly delighted,
and gave Harisarman villages with gold, umbrella, and vehicles of
all kinds. And immediately Harisarman became like a feudal chief.
"Thus good objects are brought about by fate for those whose actions
in a former life have been good. Accordingly fate made that daughter
of yours, Tejasvatí, approach Somadatta a man of equal birth, and kept
away one who was unsuited to her." Hearing this from the mouth of his
minister, the king Vikramasena gave his daughter to that prince as if
she were the goddess of fortune. Then the prince went and overcame his
enemies by the help of his father-in-law's host, and being established
in his own kingdom, lived happily in the company of his wife.
"So true is it that all this happens by the special favour of fate;
who on earth would be able to join you, lovely as you are, with the
king of Vatsa, though a suitable match for you, without the help of
fate? What can I do in this matter, friend Kalingasená?" Kalingasená,
hearing this story in private from the mouth of Somaprabhá,
became eager in her soul for union with the king of Vatsa, and,
in her aspirations after him, began to feel in a less degree the
fear of her relations and the warnings of modesty. Then, the sun,
the great lamp of the three worlds, being about to set, Somaprabhá
the daughter of the Asura Maya, having with difficulty taken leave,
until her morning return, of her friend, whose mind was fixed upon
her proposed attempt, went through the air to her own home.
Note on the story of Harisarman.
The story of Harisarman resembles closely that of Doctor Allwissend
in Grimm's Tales. It is shown by Benfey to exist in various forms
in many countries. It is found in the Siddhikür, the Mongolian form
of the Sanskrit Vetálapanchavinsati. In this form of the story the
incident of the frog in the pot is omitted, and the other incidents
are considerably altered. Instead of the king's treasure we find a
magic gem, on which the prosperity of the country depends; it is not
stolen but lost by the king's daughter. Instead of the horse we have
the cure of a sick Khán who had been driven mad by evil spirits. The
folly of the man who represents the Bráhman consists in his choosing
worthless presents for his reward. (The story is the IVth in Sagas
from the Far East.) Benfey considers the fullest form of the story to
be that in Schleicher's Lithuanian Legends. In this form of the story
we have the stealing of the horse. In other points it resembles the
Mongolian version. The Bráhman is represented by a poor cottager,
who puts up over his door a notice saying that he is a Doctor, who
knows everything and can do everything. The third exploit of the
cottager is the finding of a stolen treasure which is the second in
the Indian story, but his second is a miraculous cure which is in
accordance with the Siddikür. The latter is probably a late work; and
we may presume that the Mongols brought the Indian story to Europe,
in a form resembling that in the Kathá Sarit Ságara more nearly than
the form in the Siddikür does. In the third exploit of the cottager in
the Lithuanian tale, which corresponds to the second in the Indian, the
treasure has been stolen by three servants. They listen outside while
the Doctor is alone in his room. When the clock strikes one,--he says,
"We have one." When it strikes two, he says--"We have two." When it
strikes three, he says,--"We have now three." In their terror they
go to the doctor and beg him not to betray them. He is richly rewarded.
But after all, Grimm's form of the tale is nearest to the Sanskrit. The
dish with crabs in it, the contents of which the Doctor has to guess,
makes him exclaim--"Ach ich armer Krebs." This might almost have been
translated from the Sanskrit; it is so similar in form. The guilty
servants, who stole the gold are detected by the Doctor's saying to
his wife--"Margaret, that is the first"--meaning the first who waited
at table, and so on.
The story is also found in the Facetiæ of Henricus Bebelius, 1506. Here
a poor charcoal-burner represents the Bráhman. He asks three days
to consider. The king gives him a good dinner, and while the first
thief is standing at the window, he exclaims "Jam unus accessit"
meaning "one day is at an end." The next day the second thief comes
to listen. The charcoal-burner exclaims "Secundus accessit" and so
with the third, whereupon they all confess.
Benfey conceives himself to have found the incident of the horse in
Poggii Facetiæ (LXXXVI ed. Cracov. 1592, p. 59). Here a doctor boasts
a wonder-working pill. A man who has lost his ass takes one of these
pills. It conducts him to a bed of reeds where he finds his ass. (The
article from which I have taken these parallels is found in Benfey's
Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 371 and ff.)
CHAPTER XXXI.
The next morning Somaprabhá arrived, and Kalingasená said to her
friend in her confidential conversation--"My father certainly wishes
to give me to Prasenajit, I heard this from my mother, and you have
seen that he is an old man. But you have described the king of Vatsa
in such a way in the course of conversation, that my mind has been
captivated by him entering in through the gate of my ear. So first
shew me Prasenajit, and then take me there, where the king of Vatsa
is; what do I care for my father, or my mother?" When the impatient
girl said this, Somaprabhá answered her--"If you must go, then let
us go in the chariot that travels through the air. But you must take
with you all your retinue, for, as soon as you have seen the king of
Vatsa, you will find it impossible to return. And you will never see
or think of your parents, and when you have obtained your beloved, you
will forget even me, as I shall be at a distance from you. For I shall
never enter your husband's house, my friend." When the princess heard
that, she wept and said to her,--"Then bring that king of Vatsa here,
my friend, for I shall not be able to exist there a moment without
you: was not Aniruddha brought to Ushá by Chitralekhá? And though
you know it, hear from my mouth that story."
Story of Ushá and Aniruddha.
The Asura Bána had a daughter, famous under the name of Ushá. And
she propitiated Gaurí, who granted her a boon in order that she might
obtain a husband, saying to her, "He to whom you shall be united in
a dream, shall be your husband." Then she saw in a dream a certain
man looking like a divine prince. She was married by him according
to the Gándharva form of marriage, and after obtaining the joy of
union with him, she woke up at the close of night. When she did not
see the husband she had seen in her dream, but beheld the traces
of his presence, she remembered the boon of Gaurí, and was full of
disquietude, fear, and astonishment. And being miserable without
the husband whom she had seen in her dream, she confessed all to
her friend Chitralekhá, who questioned her. And Chitralekhá, being
acquainted with magic, thus addressed that Ushá, who knew not the
name of her lover nor any sign whereby to recognise him,--"My friend,
this is the result of the boon of the goddess Gaurí, what doubt can
we allege in this matter? But how are you to search for your lover
as he is not to be recognised by any token? I will sketch for you
the whole world, gods, Asuras, and men, in case you may be able to
recognise him; [480] and point him out to me among them, in order
that I may bring him." Thus spoke Chitralekhá, and when Ushá answered
"By all means!" she painted for her with coloured pencils the whole
world in order. Thereupon Ushá exclaimed joyfully, "There he is,"
and pointed out with trembling finger Aniruddha in Dváravatí of the
race of Yadu. Then Chitralekhá said--"My friend, you are fortunate,
in that you have obtained for a husband Aniruddha the grandson of the
adorable Vishnu. But he lives sixty thousand yojanas from here." When
Ushá heard that, she said to her, overpowered by excessive longing,
"Friend, if I cannot to-day repair to his bosom cool as sandal wood,
know that I am already dead, being burnt up with the uncontrollable
fire of love." When Chitralekhá heard this, she consoled her dear
friend, and immediately flew up and went through the air to the city
of Dváravatí; and she beheld it in the middle of the sea, producing
with its vast and lofty palaces an appearance as if the peaks of
the churning mountain [481] had again been flung into the ocean. She
found Aniruddha asleep in that city at night, and woke him up, and
told him that Ushá had fallen in love with him on account of having
seen him in a dream. And she took the prince, who was eager for the
interview, looking exactly as he had before appeared in Ushá's dream,
and returned from Dváravatí in a moment by the might of her magic. And
flying with him through the air, she introduced that lover secretly