The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
island in the midst of the sea, inaccessible to man, with a retinue
of women only. And whatever article she required, he conveyed there
through the air on that elephant, so great was his distrust. And being
devotedly attached to her, he always spent the night there, but came
to Ratnakúta in the day to transact his regal duties. Now one morning
the king, in order to counteract an inauspicious dream, indulged with
that Rájadattá in a drinking-bout for good luck. And though his wife,
being intoxicated with that banquet, did not wish to let him go, he
left her, and departed to Ratnakúta to transact his business, for the
royal dignity is an ever-exacting wife. There he remained performing
his duties with anxious mind, which seemed ever to ask him, why he
left his wife there in a state of intoxication? And in the meanwhile
Rájadattá, remaining alone in that inaccessible place, the female
servants being occupied in culinary and other duties, saw a certain man
come in at the door, like Fate determined to baffle all expedients for
guarding her, and his arrival filled her with astonishment. And that
intoxicated woman asked him when he approached her, "Who are you,
and how have you come to this inaccessible place?" Then that man,
who had endured many hardships, answered her--
Story of Yavanasena.
Fair one, I am a merchant's son of Mathurá named Yavanasena. And when
my father died, I was left helpless, and my relations took from me my
property, so I went to a foreign country, and resorted to the miserable
condition of being servant to another man. Then I with difficulty
scraped together a little wealth by trading, and as I was going to
another land, I was plundered by robbers who met me on the way. Then
I wandered about as a beggar, and, with some other men like myself,
I went to a mine of jewels called Kanakakshetra. There I engaged to
pay the king his share, and after digging up the earth in a trench for
a whole year, I did not find a single jewel. So, while the other men
my fellows were rejoicing over the jewels they had found, smitten with
grief I retired to the shore of the sea, and began to collect fuel.
And while I was constructing with the fuel a funeral pyre, in
order that I might enter the flame, a certain merchant named
Jívadatta happened to come there; that merciful man dissuaded me
from suicide, and gave me food, and as he was preparing to go in a
ship to Svarnadvípa he took me on board with him. Then, as we were
sailing along in the midst of the ocean, after five days had passed,
we suddenly beheld a cloud. The cloud discharged its rain in large
drops, and that vessel was whirled round by the wind like the head of
a mast elephant. Immediately the ship sank, but as fate would have it,
I caught hold of a plank, just as I was sinking. I mounted on it,
and thereupon the thunder-cloud relaxed its fury, and, conducted
by destiny, I reached this country; and have just landed in the
forest. And seeing this palace, I entered, and I beheld here thee,
O auspicious one, a rain of nectar to my eyes, dispelling pain.
When he had said this, Rájadattá maddened with love and wine, placed
him on a couch and embraced him. Where there are these five fires,
feminine nature, intoxication, privacy, the obtaining of a man, and
absence of restraint, what chance for the stubble of character? So
true is it, that a woman maddened by the god of Love is incapable of
discrimination; since this queen became enamoured of that loathsome
castaway. In the meanwhile the king Ratnádhipati, being anxious,
came swiftly from Ratnakúta, borne along on the sky-going elephant;
and entering his palace he beheld his wife Rájadattá in the arms of
that creature. When the king saw the man, though he felt tempted to
slay him, he slew him not, because he fell at his feet, and uttered
piteous supplications. And beholding his wife terrified, and at
the same time intoxicated, he reflected, "How can a woman that is
addicted to wine, the chief ally of lust, be chaste? A lascivious
woman cannot be restrained even by being guarded. Can one fetter a
whirlwind with one's arms? This is the fruit of my not heeding the
prediction of the astrologers. To whom is not the scorning of wise
words bitter in its after-taste? When I thought that she was the
sister of Sílavatí, I forgot that the Kálakúta poison was twin-born
with the amrita. [543] Or rather who is able, even by doing the utmost
of a man, to overcome the incalculable freaks of marvellously working
Destiny." Thus reflecting, the king was not wroth with any one, and
spared the merchant's son, her paramour, after asking him the story
of his life. The merchant's son, when dismissed thence, seeing no
other expedient, went out and beheld a ship coming, far off in the
sea. Then he again mounted that plank, and drifting about in the sea,
cried out, puffing and blowing, "Save me! Save me!" So a merchant, of
the name of Krodhavarman, who was on that ship, drew that merchant's
son out of the water, and made him his companion. Whatever deed is
appointed by the Disposer to be the destruction of any man, dogs
his steps whithersoever he runneth. For this fool, when on the ship,
was discovered by his deliverer secretly associating with his wife,
and thereupon was cast by him into the sea and perished.
In the meanwhile the king Ratnádhipati caused the queen Rájadattá
with her retinue to mount Svetarasmi, without allowing himself to
be angry, and he carried her to Ratnakúta, and delivered her to
Sílavatí, and related that occurrence to her and his ministers. And
he exclaimed, "Alas! How much pain have I endured, whose mind has
been devoted to these unsubstantial insipid enjoyments. Therefore I
will go to the forest, and take Hari as my refuge, in order that I
may never again be a vessel of such woes." Thus he spake, and though
his sorrowing ministers and Sílavatí endeavoured to prevent him, he,
being disgusted with the world, would not abandon his intention. Then,
being indifferent to enjoyments, he first gave half of his treasure to
the virtuous Sílavatí, and the other half to the Bráhmans, and then
that king made over in the prescribed form his kingdom to a Bráhman
of great excellence, named Pápabhanjana. And after he had given away
his kingdom, he ordered Svetarasmi to be brought, with the object
of retiring to a grove of asceticism, his subjects looking on with
tearful eyes. No sooner was the elephant brought, than it left the
body, and became a man of god-like appearance, adorned with necklace
and bracelet. When the king asked him who he was, and what was the
meaning of all this, he answered:
"We were two Gandharva brothers, living on the Malaya mountain: I was
called Somaprabha, and the eldest was Devaprabha. And my brother had
but one wife, but she was very dear to him. Her name was Rájavatí. One
day he was wandering about with her in his arms, and happened to
arrive, with me in his company, at a place called the dwelling of the
Siddhas. There we both worshipped Vishnu in his temple, and began all
of us to sing before the adorable one. In the meanwhile a Siddha came
there, and stood regarding with fixed gaze Rájavatí, who was singing
songs well worth hearing. And my brother, who was jealous, said in
his wrath to that Siddha; 'Why dost thou, although a Siddha, cast a
longing look at another's wife?' Then the Siddha was moved with anger,
and said to him by way of a curse--'Fool, I was looking at her out of
interest in her song, not out of desire. So fall thou, jealous one,
into a mortal womb together with her; and then behold with thy own eyes
thy wife in the embraces of another.' When he had said this, I, being
enraged at the curse, struck him, out of childish recklessness, with a
white toy elephant of clay, that I had in my hand. Then he cursed me
in the following words--"Be born again on the earth as an elephant,
like that with which you have just struck me." Then being merciful,
that Siddha allowed himself to be propitiated by that brother of mine
Devaprabha, and appointed for us both the following termination of the
curse; "Though a mortal thou shalt become, by the favour of Vishnu,
the lord of an island, and shalt obtain as thy servant this thy younger
brother, who will have become an elephant, a beast of burden fit for
gods. Thou shalt obtain eighty thousand wives, and thou shalt come
to learn the unchastity of them all in the presence of men. Then thou
shalt marry this thy present wife, who will have become a woman, and
shalt see her with thy own eyes embracing another. Then, thou shalt
become sick in thy heart of the world, and shalt bestow thy realm on
a Bráhman, but when after doing this thou shalt set out to go to a
forest of ascetics, thy younger brother shall first be released from
his elephant nature, and thou also with thy wife shalt be delivered
from thy curse.' This was the termination of the curse appointed for
us by the Siddha, and we were accordingly born with different lots,
on account of the difference of our actions in that previous state,
and lo! the end of our curse has now arrived." When Somaprabha
had said this, that king Ratnádhipati remembered his former birth,
and said--"True! I am that very Devaprabha; and this Rájadattá is
my former wife Rájavatí." Having said this, he, together with his
wife, abandoned the body. In a moment they all became Gandharvas,
and, in the sight of men, flew up into the air, and went to their own
home, the Malaya mountain. Sílavatí too, through the nobleness of her
character, obtained prosperity, and going to the city of Támraliptí,
remained in the practice of virtue.
"So true is it, that in no case can any one guard a woman by force in
this world, but the young woman of good family is ever protected by the
pure restraint of her own chastity. And thus the passion of jealousy is
merely a purposeless cause of suffering, annoying others, and so far
from being a protection to women, it rather excites in them excessive
longing." When Naraváhanadatta had heard this tale full of good sense
related by his wife, he and his ministers were highly pleased.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Then Naraváhanadatta's minister Gomukha said to him, by way of capping
the tale, which had been told by Ratnaprabhá: "It is true that chaste
women are few and far between, but unchaste women are never to be
trusted; in illustration of this, hear the following story."
Story of Nischayadatta.
There is in this land a town of the name of Ujjayiní, famous throughout
the world: in it there lived of old time a merchant's son, named
Nischayadatta. He was a gambler and had acquired money by gambling,
and every day the generous man used to bathe in the water of the Siprá,
and worship Mahákála: [544] his custom was first to give money to the
Bráhmans, the poor, and the helpless, and then to anoint himself and
indulge in food and betel.
Every day, when he had finished his bathing and his worship, he used
to go and anoint himself in a cemetery near the temple of Mahákála,
with sandalwood and other things. And the young man placed the
unguent on a stone pillar that stood there, and so anointed himself
every day alone, rubbing his back against it. In that way the pillar
eventually became very smooth and polished. Then there came that way
a draughtsman with a sculptor; the first, seeing that the pillar
was very smooth, drew on it a figure of Gaurí, and the sculptor
with his chisel in pure sport carved it on the stone. Then, after
they had departed, a certain daughter of the Vidyádharas came there
to worship Mahákála, and saw that image of Gaurí on the stone. From
the clearness of the image she inferred the proximity of the goddess,
and, after worshipping, she entered that stone pillar to rest. In the
meanwhile Nischayadatta, the merchant's son, came there, and to his