The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
to an emperor. And whatever and howmuchsoever wealth he was in the
habit of giving to suppliants, Madanamálá gladly furnished him with
from her own store. And she thought her body and wealth well employed,
while enjoyed by him, and she remained averse to gain and to other
men. For out of love to him she even kept off by stratagems Narasinha,
the king of that land, who came there being enamoured of her.
While the king was being waited on in this fashion by Madanamálá, he
one day said in secret to his minister Buddhivara, who accompanied him,
"A hetæra desires wealth, and not even if she feels love, does she
become attached without it, for when Providence framed suitors, he
bestowed greed on these women. But this Madanamálá, though her wealth
is being consumed by me, through her great love is not estranged
from me, on the contrary she delights in me. So how can I now make
her a recompense, in order that my vow may in course of time be fully
accomplished?" When the minister Buddhivara heard this, he said to the
king; "If this be so, give her some of those priceless jewels which
the mendicant Prapanchabuddhi gave you." When the king heard that, he
answered him, "If I were to give them all to her, I should not have
made her a recompense worth speaking of; but I can free myself from
obligation in another way, which is connected also with the story of
that mendicant." When the minister heard this, he said--"King, why
did that mendicant court you? Tell me his story." When his minister
Buddhivara proffered this request, the king said, "Listen: I will
tell you his story."
Story of king Vikramáditya and the treacherous mendicant.
Long ago a mendicant named Prapanchabuddhi used to enter my hall of
audience in Pátaliputra every day and give me a box. For a whole year
I gave these boxes, just as they were, unopened into the hand of my
treasurer. One day, one of those boxes presented by the mendicant
by chance fell from my hand on to the ground, and burst open. And a
great jewel fell out of it, glittering like fire, and it appeared as
if it were the mendicant's heart which I had not discerned before,
revealed by him. When I saw that, I took it, and I had those other
boxes brought which he had presented to me, and opened them, and
took a jewel out of every one of them. Then in astonishment I asked
Prapanchabuddhi--"Why do you court me with such splendid jewels?" Then
that mendicant took me aside, and said to me--"On the fourteenth day
of the black fortnight now approaching I have to perform a certain
incantation at night-fall, in a cemetery outside this town. I desire
you, my hero, to come and take part in that enterprise, for success is
easily obtained, when the obstacles to it are swept away by the aid
of a hero." When the mendicant said this to me, I agreed. So he went
off delighted, and in a few days the fourteenth night of the black
fortnight came, and I remembered the speech of that ascetic. [563]
Then I performed my daily observances, and waited for the night, and
after I had recited the evening prayer, it happened that I rapidly fell
asleep. Then the adorable Hari, who is compassionate to his votaries,
appeared to me in a dream, mounted on Garuda, with his breast marked
with a lotus, and thus commanded me--"My son, this Prapanchabuddhi
[564] is rightly named, for he will inveigle you into the cemetery to
take part in the incantation of the circle, [565] and will offer you
up as a victim. So do not do what he tells you to do with the object
of slaying you, but say to him--'You do it first, and when I have
learned the way, I will do it.' Then, as he is shewing you the way,
take advantage of the opportunity, and slay him immediately, and
you will acquire the power that he desires to obtain." When Vishnu
had said this, he disappeared, and I woke up and thought--"By the
favour of Hari I have detected that magician, and this day I must
slay him." Having thus reflected, when the first watch of the night
was gone, I went, sword in hand, alone to that cemetery. There I
beheld that mendicant, who had performed the ceremony of the circle
incantation, and when the treacherous fellow saw me, he welcomed me,
and said, "King, close your eyes, and fall at full length on the ground
with your face downwards, and in this way both of us will attain our
ends." Then I answered him--"Do it yourself first. Shew me how to do
it, and, after I have learned, I will do precisely as you do." When
the mendicant heard that, like a fool, he fell on the earth, and I
cut off his head with a stroke of my sword. [566] Then a voice was
heard from the air--"Bravo, king! By offering up to-day this rascally
mendicant thou hast obtained the power of going through the air, which
he wished to obtain. I, the god of wealth, that move about at will,
am pleased with thy courage. So, ask me for another boon, whatever
thou mayest desire." After saying this, he manifested himself, and I,
bowing before him, said,--"When I shall supplicate thee, adorable one,
thou shalt appear on my thinking of thee, and grant me a suitable
boon." The god of wealth said--"So be it"--and disappeared. And having
obtained magic power, I went back quickly to my own palace. Thus I
have told you my adventure, so by means of that boon of Kuvera I must
now recompense Madanamálá. And you must now go back to Pátaliputra,
taking with you my disguised Rájpút retinue, and I, as soon as I have
in a novel way recompensed my beloved, will immediately go there,
with the intention of returning here." Having said this, and having
performed his daily duties, the king dismissed his minister with his
retinue. He said, "So be it" and departed, and the king spent that
night with Madanamálá, anxious about his approaching separation. She
too, embracing him frequently, because her heart seemed to tell her
that he was going to a distance, did not sleep all that night.
In the morning the king, having performed all his necessary duties,
entered a chapel for the daily worship of the gods, on the pretence
of repeating prayers. And there the god of wealth appeared before
him on his thinking of him, and bowing before him the king craved
that boon formerly promised, in the following words--"O god, give me
here to-day in accordance with that boon, which you promised me, five
great indestructible golden figures of men, such that, though their
limbs may be continually cut off for any desired use, those very limbs
will grow again, exactly as before." The god of wealth said, "Even so;
be there unto thee five such figures as thou desirest!" Having said
this, he immediately disappeared. And the king immediately beheld
those five great golden figures of men suddenly standing in the
chapel; then he went out delighted, and not forgetting his promise,
he flew up into the air and went to his city of Pátaliputra. There
he was welcomed by his ministers, and the citizens and his wives,
and he remained engaged in his kingly duties, while his heart was far
away in Pratishthána. In the meanwhile, in Pratishthána, that beloved
of his entered that chapel to see her love, who had entered it long
before. And when she entered, she did not perceive that beloved king
anywhere, but she beheld five gigantic golden figures of men. When she
saw them, and did not find him, she reflected in her grief--"Surely
that love of mine was some Vidyádhara or Gandharva, who bestowed upon
me these men and flew away up to heaven.
"So what am I to do with these figures, which are all a mere
burden, now that I am deprived of him?" Thus reflecting she asked
her servants over and over again for news of him, and went out and
roamed all about her domain. And she found no satisfaction anywhere,
either in the palaces, the gardens, the chambers or other places,
but she kept lamenting, grieved at being separated from her lover,
ready to abandon the body.
Her attendants tried to comfort her, saying, "Do not despair, mistress,
for he is some god roaming about at will, and when he pleases, he will
return to you, fair one." With such hope-inspiring words did they at
length so far console her that she made this vow--"If in six months he
does not grant me to behold him, I will give away all my property and
enter the fire." With this promise she fortified herself, and remained
every day giving alms, thinking on that beloved of hers. And one day,
she cut off both the arms of one of those golden men, and gave them
to the Bráhmans, being intent on charity only. And the next day she
perceived with astonishment that both arms had grown again, exactly
as they were before. Then she proceeded to cut off the arms of the
others, to give them away, and the arms of all of them grew again
as they were before. Then she saw that they were indestructible,
and every day she cut off the arms of the figures and gave them to
studious Bráhmans, according to the number of the Vedas they had read.
And in a few days a Bráhman, named Sangrámadatta, having heard
the fame of her bounty, which was spread abroad in every direction,
came from Pátaliputra. He being poor, but acquainted with four Vedas,
and endowed with virtues, entered into her presence desiring a gift,
being announced by the door-keepers. She gave him as many arms of the
golden figures as he knew Vedas, after bowing before him with limbs
emaciated with her vow and pale with separation from her beloved. Then
the Bráhman, having heard from her sorrow-stricken attendants the
whole of her story, ending in that very terrible vow, was delighted,
but at the same time despondent, and loading two camels with those
golden arms went to his native city, Pátaliputra. Then that Bráhman,
thinking that his gold would not be safe there, unless guarded by
the king, entered the king's presence and said to him, while he was
sitting in the hall of judgment; "Here I am, O great king, a Bráhman
who am an inhabitant of thy town. I, being poor, and desiring wealth,
went to the southern clime, and arrived at a city named Pratishthána,
belonging to king Narasinha. There, being desirous of a donation, I
went to the house of Madanamálá, a hetæra of distinguished fame. For
with her there lived long some divine being, who departed somewhere
or other, after giving her five indestructible figures of men. Then
the high-spirited woman became afflicted at his departure, and
considering life to be poison-agony, and the body, that fruitless
accumulation of delusion, to be merely a punishment for thieving, lost
her patience, and being with difficulty consoled by her attendants
made this vow--"If in the space of six months he does not visit me,
I must enter the fire, my soul being smitten by adversity." Having
made this vow she, being resolved on death, and desiring to perform
good actions, gives away every day very large gifts. And I beheld her,
king, with tottering feet, conspicuous for the beauty of her person,
though it was thin from fasting; with hand moistened with the water of
giving, surrounded with maids like clustering bees, sorely afflicted,
looking like the incarnation of the mast condition of the elephant
of love. [567] And I think that lover who deserts her, and causes by
his absence that fair one to abandon the body, deserves blame, indeed
deserves death. She to-day gave to me, who know the four Vedas, four
golden arms of human figures, according to right usage, proportioning
her gift to the number of my Vedas. So I wish to purify my house with
sacrifice, and to follow a life of religion here; therefore let the
king grant me protection."
The king Vikramáditya, hearing these tidings of his beloved from the
mouth of the Bráhman, had his mind suddenly turned towards her. And
he commanded his door-keeper to do what the Bráhman wished, and
thinking how constant was the affection of his mistress, who valued