The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
like manner throw these thorns in his way. If in spite of them he
pursues, throw this fire in his way; and if you do this, you will
return here without the Daitya; so do not hesitate--go, you shall
to-day behold the power of my magic."--When she said this to him,
Sringabhuja took the earth and the other things and said, "I will
do so," and mounting her horse went to the temple in the wood. There
he saw an image of Siva, with one of Párvatí on his left and one of
Ganesa on his right, and, after bowing before the Lord of the Universe,
[576] he quickly addressed to Dhúmasikha the form of invitation told
him by Agnisikha, and fled from the place at full speed, urging on his
horse. And he soon turned his head and looked round, and he beheld
Dhúmasikha coming after him. And he quickly threw that earth behind
him in his way, and the earth, so flung, immediately produced a great
mountain. When he saw that the Rákshasa had, though with difficulty,
climbed over that mountain, and was coming on, the prince in the same
way threw the water behind him. That produced a great river in his
path with rolling waves: the Rákshasa with difficulty got across it
and was coming on, when Sringabhuja quickly strewed those thorns behind
him. They produced a dense thorny wood in Dhúmasikha's path. When the
Rákshasa emerged from it, the prince threw the fire behind him, which
set on fire the path with the herbs and the trees. When Dhúmasikha
saw that the fire was hard to cross, like Khándava, [577] he returned
home, tired and terrified. For on that occasion the Rákshasa was so
bewildered by the magic of Rúpasikhá that he went and returned on
his feet, he did not think of flying through the air.
Then Sringabhuja returned to Dhúmapura, free from fear, commending in
his heart that display of his love's magic power. He gave up the horse
to the delighted Rúpasikhá, and related his adventure, and then went
in to the presence of Agnisikha. He said, "I went and invited your
brother Dhúmasikha." When he said this, Agnisikha being perplexed,
said to him--"If you really went there, mention some peculiarity of
the place." When the crafty Rákshasa said this to Sringabhuja, he
answered him--"Listen, I will tell you a token: in that temple there
is a figure of Párvatí on the left side of Siva, and of Ganesa on his
right." When Agnisikha heard that, he was astonished and thought for a
moment--"What! did he go there, and was my brother not able to devour
him? Then he cannot be a mere man, he must be a god, so let him marry
my daughter, as he is a fitting match for her." After thus reflecting,
he sent Sringabhuja as a successful suitor to Rúpasikhá, but he never
suspected that there was a traitor in his own family. So Sringabhuja
went, eager for his marriage, and after eating and drinking with
her, managed somehow to get through the night. And the next morning
Agnisikha gave to him Rúpasikhá with all the magnificence appropriate
to his magic power, according to due form, in the presence of the
fire. Little in common have Rákshasas' daughters and princes, and
strange the union of such! Wonderful indeed are the results of our
deeds in a previous state of existence! The prince, after he had
obtained that beloved daughter of the Rákshasa, seemed like a swan
who had got hold of a soft lotus, sprung from mud. And he remained
there with her, who was devoted to him alone, enjoying various dainty
delights provided by the magic power of the Rákshasa.
When some days had passed there, he said in secret to the
Rákshasa's daughter, "Come, my beloved, let us return to the city of
Vardhamána. For that is my capital city, and I cannot endure to be
banished from my capital city by my enemies, for people like myself
hold honour dear as life. So leave for my sake the land of your birth,
though it is hard to leave; inform your father, and bring that golden
arrow in your hand." When Sringabhuja said this to Rúpasikhá, she
answered--"I must immediately obey your command. I care not for the
land of my birth, nor for my relatives, you are all those to me. [578]
Good women have no other refuge than their husbands. But it will
never do to communicate our intention to my father, for he would not
let us go. So we must depart without that hot-tempered father of mine
knowing of it. And if he hears from the attendants and comes after us,
I will bewilder him by my knowledge, for he is senseless and like an
idiot." When he heard this speech of hers, he set out delighted on the
next day, with her who gave him the half of her kingdom, and filled
a casket with priceless jewels, and brought that golden arrow; and
they both mounted her splendid horse Saravega, [579] having deceived
the attendants by representing that they were going for a pleasure
excursion in the park, and journeyed towards Vardhamána.
When the couple had gone a long distance, the Rákshasa Agnisikha
found it out, and in wrath pursued after them through the air. And
hearing afar off the noise produced by the speed of his flight,
Rúpasikhá said to Sringabhuja on the road, "My husband, my father
has come to make us turn back, so remain here without fear: see how I
will deceive him. For he shall neither see you nor the horse, since I
shall conceal both by my deluding power." After saying this, she got
down from the horse and assumed by her deluding power the form of a
man. [580] And she said to a woodcutter, who had come to the forest
to cut wood--"A great Rákshasa is coming here, so remain quiet for a
moment." Then she continued to cut wood with his axe. And Sringabhuja
looked on with a smile on his face. In the meanwhile that foolish
Rákshasa arrived there, and lighted down from the air, on beholding
his daughter in the shape of a woodcutter, and asked her whether she
had seen a man and woman pass that way. [581] Then his daughter, who
had assumed the form of a man, said with great effort as if tired,
"We two have not seen any couple, as our eyes are fatigued with
toil, for we two woodcutters have been occupied here in cutting a
great quantity of wood to burn Agnisikha the king of the Rákshasas,
who is dead." When that silly Rákshasa heard that, he thought,
"What! am I dead? What then does that daughter matter to me? I will
go and ask my own attendants at home whether I am dead or not." [582]
Thus reflecting, Agnisikha went quickly home, and his daughter set
out with her husband as before, laughing as she went.
And soon the Rákshasa returned in high spirits, for he had asked his
attendants, who could not help laughing in their sleeves, whether he
was alive, and had learned that he was. Then Rúpasikhá, knowing from
the terrible noise that he was coming again, though as yet far off,
got down from the horse and concealed her husband as before by her
deluding power, and taking letters from the hand of a letter-carrier,
who was coming along the road, she again assumed the form of a man.
And so the Rákshasa arrived as before, and asked his daughter, who was
disguised as a man--"Did you see a man and a woman on the road?" Then
she, disguised as a man, answered him with a sigh,--"I beheld no such
person, for my mind was absorbed with my haste, for Agnisikha, who was
to-day mortally wounded in battle, and has only a little breath left
in his body, and is in his capital desiring to make over his kingdom,
has despatched me as a messenger to summon to his presence his brother
Dhúmasikha, who is living an independent life." When Agnisikha heard
that, he said, "What! am I mortally wounded by my enemies?" And
in his perplexity he returned again home to get information on
the point. But it never occurred to him to say to himself--"Who is
mortally wounded? Here I am safe and sound." Strange are the fools
that the Creator produces, and wonderfully obscured with the quality
of darkness! And when he arrived at home and found that the tale
was false, he would not expose himself again to the laughter of the
people, tired of being imposed upon, and forgetting his daughter. And
Rúpasikhá, after deluding him, returned to her husband as before,
for virtuous women know of no other good than the good of their
husbands. Then Sringabhuja, mounted on the wonderful horse, again
proceeded rapidly with his wife towards the city of Vardhamána. Then
his father Vírabhuja, having heard that he was returning in company
with her, went out much pleased to meet him. The king, when he saw
him adorned with that wife, like Krishna with Bhámá, considered that
he had gained afresh the bliss of sovereign sway. And when his son
got down from his horse, and clung to his feet with his beloved,
he raised him up and embraced him, and with his eye, in which stood
the water of joyful tears, performed in noble wise the auspicious
ceremony that put an end to his own despondency, and then conducted
him into his palace, making high festival. And when he asked his son
where he had been, Sringabhuja told him his whole history from the
beginning. And after summoning his brothers, Nirvásabhuja and all,
into his father's presence, he gave them the golden arrow. Then the
king Vírabhuja, after what he had heard and seen, was displeased with
those other sons, and considered Sringabhuja his only true son.
Then that wise king drew this true conclusion--"I suspect that, as
this son of mine out of spite was banished by these enemies, brothers
only in name, though he was all the while innocent, so his mother
Gunavará, whom I love so well, was falsely accused by their mothers,
and was all the while innocent. So what is the use of delay? I will
find out the truth of it immediately." [583] After these reflections,
the king spent that day in performing his duties, and went at night
to sift his other wife Ayasolekhá. She was delighted to see him,
and he made her drink a great quantity of wine, and she in her
sleep murmured out, while the king was awake--"If we had not falsely
slandered Gunavará, would the king ever have visited me here?" [584]
When the king heard this speech of the wicked queen uttered in her
sleep, he felt he had attained certainty, and rose up in wrath and
went out; and going to his own chamber, he had the eunuchs summoned,
and said to them; "Take that Gunavará out of the dungeon, and after
she has bathed bring her quickly; for the present moment was appointed
by the astrologer as the limit of her stay in the dungeon for the
purpose of averting the evil omens." When they heard that, they said,
"So be it," and they went and quickly brought the queen Gunavará into
the presence of the king, bathed and adorned. Then that wedded pair,
happy in having crossed the sea of separation, spent that night unsated
with mutual embraces. Then the king related to the queen with delight
that adventure of Sringabhuja's, and told his son the circumstances
of his mother's imprisonment and release. In the meanwhile Ayasolekhá,
waking up, found out that the king was gone, and guessing that he had
entrapped her with his conversation, fell into deep despondency. And
in the morning the king Vírabhuja conducted his son Sringabhuja, with
his wife Rúpasikhá, into the presence of Gunavará. He came, and was
delighted to behold his mother emerged from the dungeon, and with his
new wife he worshipped the feet of his parents. Gunavará, embracing
her son, who had returned from his journey, and her daughter-in-law,
obtained in the way above related, went from joy to joy. Then by the
order of his father, Sringabhuja related to her at length his own
adventure, and what Rúpasikhá did. Then queen Gunavará delighted,
said to him, "My son, what has not that Rúpasikhá done for you? For
she, a heroine of wonderful exploits, has given up and sacrificed for
you her life, her family, her native land, these three. She must be
some goddess, become incarnate for your sake by the appointment of