The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
with a heavenly marriage thread, looked still more lovely; is not
the moon truly beautiful, when accompanied by Kártika? And heavenly
nymphs, by the order of Siva, sang auspicious strains in her honour:
they were eclipsed by her beauty and remained hidden as if ashamed,
but the sound of their songs was heard. They sang the following hymn
in honour of Gaurí, blended with the minstrelsy of the matchless
musicians of heaven, so as to make unequalled harmony--"Victory to
thee, O daughter of the mountain, that hast mercy on thy faithful
votaries, for thou hast thyself come to-day and blessed with success
the asceticism of Rati." Then Naraváhanadatta, resplendent with
excellent marriage-thread, entered the wedding-pavilion full of various
musical instruments. And the bride and bridegroom, after accomplishing
the auspicious ceremony of marriage, with intent care, so that no rite
was left out, ascended the altar-platform where a fire was burning,
as if ascending the pure flame of jewels on the heads of kings. If the
moon and the sun were to revolve at the same time round the mountain
of gold, [522] there would be an exact representation in the world
of the appearance of those two, the bride and the bridegroom, when
circumambulating the fire, keeping it on their right. Not only did
the drums of the gods in the air drown the cymbal-clang in honour of
the marriage festival, but the rain of flowers sent down by the gods
overwhelmed the gilt grain thrown by the women. Then also the generous
Kalingasená honoured her son-in-law with heaps of gold studded with
jewels, so that the lord of Alaká was considered very poor compared
with him, and much more so all miserable earthly monarchs. And then
the bride and bridegroom, now that the delightful ceremony of marriage
was accomplished in accordance with their long-cherished wishes,
entered the inner apartments crowded with women, adorned with pure and
variegated decoration, even as they penetrated the heart of the people
full of pure and various loyalty. Moreover, the city of the king of
Vatsa was quickly filled with kings, surrounded with splendid armies,
who, though their valour was worthy of the world's admiration, had
bent in submission, bringing in their hands valuable jewels by way of
presents, as if with subject seas. [523] On that high day of festival,
the king distributed gold with such magnificence to his dependants,
that the children in their mothers' wombs were at any rate the only
beings in his kingdom not made of gold. [524] Then on account of the
troops of excellent minstrels and dancing girls, that came from all
quarters of the world, with hymns, music, dances and songs on all
sides, the world seemed full of harmony. And at that festival the
city of Kausámbí seemed itself to be dancing, for the pennons agitated
by the wind seemed like twining arms, and it was beautified with the
toilettes of the city matrons, as if with ornaments. And thus waxing
in mirth every day, that great festival continued for a long time,
and all friends, relations and people generally were delighted by it,
and had their wishes marvellously fulfilled. And that crown-prince
Naraváhanadatta, accompanied by Madanamanchuká, enjoyed, though intent
on glory, the long-desired pleasures of this world.
BOOK VII.
CHAPTER XXXV.
May the head of Siva, studded with the nails of Gaurí engaged in
playfully pulling his hair, and so appearing rich in many moons,
[525] procure you prosperity.
May the god of the elephant face, [526] who, stretching forth his
trunk wet with streaming ichor, curved at the extremity, seems to be
bestowing successes, protect you.
Thus the young son of the king of Vatsa, having married in Kausámbí
Madanamanchuká, whom he loved as his life, remained living as he chose,
with his ministers Gomukha and others, having obtained his wish.
And once on a time, when the feast of spring had arrived, adorned
with the gushing notes of love-intoxicated cuckoos, in which the
wind from the Malaya mountain set in motion by force the dance of the
creepers,--the feast of spring delightful with the hum of bees, the
prince went to the garden with his ministers to amuse himself. After
roaming about there, his friend Tapantaka suddenly came with his
eyes expanded with delight, and stepping up to him, said--"Prince,
I have seen not far from here a wonderful maiden, who has descended
from heaven and is standing under an asoka-tree, and that very maiden,
who illumines the regions with her beauty, advancing towards me with
her friends, sent me here to summon you." When Naraváhanadatta heard
that, being eager to see her, he went quickly with his ministers to
the foot of the tree. He beheld there that fair one, with her rolling
eyes like bees, with her lips red like shoots, beautiful with breasts
firm as clusters, having her body yellow with the dust of flowers,
removing fatigue by her loveliness, [527] like the goddess of the
garden appearing in a visible shape suited to her deity. And the prince
approached the heavenly maiden, who bowed before him, and welcomed
her, for his eyes were ravished with her beauty. Then his minister
Gomukha, after all had sat down, asked her, "Who are you, auspicious
one, and for what reason have you come here?" When she heard that,
she laid aside her modesty in obedience to the irresistible decree
of Love, and frequently stealing sidelong glances at the lotus of
Naraváhanadatta's face with an eye that shed matchless affection,
she began thus at length to relate her own history.
Story of Ratnaprabhá.
There is a mountain-chain called Himavat, famous in the three worlds;
it has many peaks, but one of its peaks is the mount of Siva which
is garlanded with the brightness of glittering jewels, and flashes
with gleaming snow, and like the expanse of the heaven, cannot be
measured. Its plateaux are the home of magic powers and of magic
herbs, which dispel old age, death, and fear, and are to be obtained
by the favour of Siva. With its peaks yellow with the brightness of
the bodies of many Vidyádharas, it transcends the glory of the peaks
of Sumeru itself, the mighty hill of the immortals.
On it there is a golden city called Kánchanasringa, which gleams
refulgent with brightness, like the palace of the Sun. It extends
many yojanas, and in it there lives a king of the Vidyádharas named
Hemaprabha, who is a firm votary of the husband of Umá. And though he
has many wives, he has only one queen, whom he loves dearly, named
Alankáraprabhá, as dear to him as Rohiní to the moon. With her the
virtuous king used to rise up in the morning and bathe, and worship
duly Siva and his wife Gaurí, and then he would descend to the world
of men, and give to poor Bráhmans every day a thousand gold-pieces
mixed with jewels. And then he returned from earth and attended
to his kingly duties justly, and then he ate and drank, abiding by
his vow like a hermit. While days elapsed in this way, melancholy
arose once in the bosom of the king, caused by his childlessness, but
suggested by a passing occasion. And his beloved queen Alankáraprabhá,
seeing that he was in very low spirits, asked him the cause of his
sadness. Then the king said to her--"I have all prosperity, but the
one grief of childlessness afflicts me, O queen. And this melancholy
has arisen in my breast on the occasion of calling to mind a tale,
which I heard long ago, of a virtuous man who had no son." Then the
queen said to him, "Of what nature was that tale?" When asked this
question, the king told her the tale briefly in the following words:
Story of Sattvasíla and the two treasures.
In the town of Chitrakúta there was a king named Bráhmanavara, rightly
named, for he was devoted to honouring Bráhmans. He had a victorious
servant named Sattvasíla who devoted himself exclusively to war,
and every month Sattvasíla received a hundred gold-pieces from that
king. But as he was munificent, that gold was not enough for him,
especially as his childlessness made the pleasure of giving the
sole pleasure to which he was addicted. Sattvasíla was continually
reflecting--"The Disposer has not given me a son to gladden me, but he
has given me the vice of generosity, and that too without wealth. It is
better to be produced in the world as an old barren tree or a stone,
than as a poor man altogether abandoned to the vice of giving away
money." But once on a time Sattvasíla, while wandering in a garden,
happened by luck to find a treasure: and with the help of his servants
he quickly brought home that hoard, which gleamed with much gold and
glittered with priceless stones. Out of that he provided himself
with pleasures, and gave wealth to Bráhmans, slaves, and friends,
and thus the virtuous man spent his life. Meanwhile his relations,
beholding this, guessed the secret, and went to the king's palace,
and of their own accord informed the king that Sattvasíla had found
a treasure. Then Sattvasíla was summoned by the king, and by order
of the door-keeper remained standing for a moment in a lonely part
of the king's courtyard. There, as he was scratching the earth with
the hilt of a lílávajra, [528] that was in his hand, he found another
large treasure in a copper vessel. It appeared like his own heart,
displayed openly for him by Destiny pleased with his virtue, in order
that he might propitiate the king with it. So he covered it up again
with earth as it was before, and when summoned by the door-keeper,
entered the king's presence. When he had made his bow there, the king
himself said, "I have come to learn that you have obtained a treasure,
so surrender it to me." And Sattvasíla for his part answered him then
and there, "O king, tell me: shall I give you the first treasure I
found, or the one I found to-day." The king said to him--"Give the
one recently found." And thereupon Sattvasíla went to a corner of
the king's courtyard, and gave him up the treasure. Then the king,
being pleased with the treasure, dismissed Sattvasíla with these
words--"Enjoy the first-found treasure as you please." So Sattvasíla
returned to his house. There he remained increasing the propriety of
his name with gifts and enjoyments, and so managing to dispel somehow
or other the melancholy caused by the affliction of childlessness.
"Such is the story of Sattvasíla, which I heard long ago, and because
I have recalled it to mind, I remain sorrowful through thinking over
the fact that I have no son." When the queen Alankáraprabhá was thus
addressed by her husband Hemaprabha, the king of the Vidyádharas, she
answered him, "It is true: Fortune does assist the brave in this way;
did not Sattvasíla, when in difficulties, obtain a second treasure? So
you too will obtain your desire by the power of your courage, as an
example of the truth of this, hear the story of Vikramatunga."
Story of the brave king Vikramatunga.
There is a city called Pátaliputra, the ornament of the earth, filled
with various beautiful jewels, the colours of which are so disposed as
to form a perfect scale of colour. In that city there dwelt long ago
a brave king, named Vikramatunga, who in giving [529] never turned
his back on a suppliant, nor in fighting on an enemy. That king one
day entered the forest to hunt, and saw there a Bráhman offering a
sacrifice with vilva [530] fruits. When he saw him, he was desirous
to question him, but avoided going near him, and went off to a great
distance with his army in his ardour for the chase. For a long time
he sported with deer and lions, that rose up and fell slain by his
hand, as if with foes, and then he returned and beheld the Bráhman
still intent on his sacrifice as before, and going up to him he
bowed before him, and asked him his name and the advantage he hoped