The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
keep quiet, and do not make a ridiculous blunder." Though his friend
tried to dissuade him with these words, Arthalobha went and beset,
in his anger, the house of Sukhadhana with his retainers. While he was
thus engaged, Sukhadhana sallied out with his friends and retainers,
and in a moment easily defeated the whole of Arthalobha's force.
Then Arthalobha fled, and went into the presence of the king. And
concealing his own wicked conduct, he said to the king,--"O king, the
merchant Sukhadhana has carried off my wife by force." And the king,
in his rage, wished to arrest that Sukhadhana. Then a minister of the
name of Sandhána said to the king--"In any case, my lord, you cannot
arrest him, for when his force is increased by that of the eleven
friends who have come with him, he will be found to have more than
a hundred thousand excellent horses. And you have not discovered
the truth about the matter, for his conduct will turn out to be
not altogether without cause. So you had better send a messenger,
and ask what it is that this fellow here is chattering about." When
king Báhubala heard this, he sent a messenger to Sukhadhana to
ask about the matter. The messenger went, and asked about the
matter by the king's order, and thereupon Mánapará told him her
story. When Báhubala heard that wonderful tale, he came to the house
of Sukhadhana to behold the beauty of Mánapará, being filled with
excessive curiosity. There he beheld, while Sukhadhana bent before
him, Mánapará, who with the wealth of her beauty would astonish even
the Creator. She prostrated herself at his feet, and he questioned
her, and heard from her own mouth how the whole thing happened,
Arthalobha being present and listening. When he heard it, he thought
it was true, because Arthalobha was speechless, and he asked that
fair one what was to be done now. Then she said decidedly, "How can I
return to that spiritless avaricious man, who sold me to another man
without the excuse of distress?" When the king heard this, he said,
"Well said," and then Arthalobha bewildered with desire, wrath, and
shame, exclaimed,--"King, let him and me fight with our own retainers,
without any auxiliary forces; then let it be seen who is spirited and
who is spiritless." When Sukhadhana heard this, he said--"Then let
us fight in single combat, what need is there of retainers? Mánapará
shall be the prize of the victor." When the king heard this, he said,
"Good! so let it be!" Then, before the eyes of Mánapará and the king,
they both entered the lists mounted. And in the course of the combat,
Sukhadhana laid Arthalobha on the plain, by his horse's rearing on
account of a lance-wound. Then Arthalobha fell three times more on the
earth, on account of his horse being killed, but Sukhadhana, who was a
fair fighter, restrained himself and would not slay him. But the fifth
time Arthalobha's horse fell upon him, and bruised him, and he was
carried off by his servants motionless. Then Sukhadhana was cheered
by all the spectators with shouts of applause, and the king Báhubala
honoured him as he deserved. And he immediately bestowed a gift of
honour upon the lady, and he confiscated the property of Arthalobha,
which had been acquired by unlawful means; and appointing another to
his office, he departed pleased to his palace. For good men derive
satisfaction from breaking off their connection with the bad. And
Sukhadhana, having maintained his claim by force, remained enjoying
himself in the society of Mánapará his loving wife.
"Thus wives and wealth leave the mean-spirited man, and of their own
accord come to the high-spirited man from every quarter. So dismiss
anxiety! Go to sleep! in a short time, my lord, you will obtain that
princess Karpúriká." When Naraváhanadatta heard that sound advice of
Rájyadhara's, he and Gomukha went off to sleep.
And in the morning, while the prince was waiting awhile after his
meal, the wise Gomukha addressed Rájyadhara as follows: "Make such
an ingenious chariot for my master, as that he shall be able by
means of it to reach the city of Karpúrasambhava, and obtain his
beloved." When thus supplicated, that carpenter offered Naraváhanadatta
the chariot with a pneumatic contrivance, that he had made before. He
ascended that sky-travelling chariot, swift as thought, together with
Gomukha, and crossed the deep, the home of monsters, that agitated
its waves as if exulting to behold his valour, and reached the city
of Karpúrasambhava on its shore. There the chariot descended from the
sky, and he and Gomukha left it, and out of curiosity wandered about
inside the town. And by questioning the people he found out that he
had indeed without doubt reached the desired city, and delighted he
went to the neighbourhood of the palace. There he found a splendid
house occupied by an old woman, and he entered it to stay there,
and she received him with respect. And eager to hit upon an artifice,
he immediately asked that woman, "Noble lady, what is the name of the
king here, and what children has he? And tell us of their appearance,
for we are foreigners." When he said this to the old woman, she, seeing
that he was of excessively noble form, answered--"Listen, illustrious
sir, I will tell you all. In this city of Karpúrasambhava there is a
king named Karpúraka. And he, having no children, performed penance,
with his wife Buddhikárí, fasting, in honour of Siva, in order to
obtain offspring. After he had fasted for three nights, the god Siva
commanded him in a dream--'Rise up, a daughter shall be born to you,
who shall be superior to a son, and whose husband shall obtain the
sovereignty of the Vidyádharas.' After receiving this order from
Siva, the king woke up in the morning; and, after communicating this
dream to his wife Buddhikárí, he rose up and went off delighted,
and with his queen broke his fast. And then in a short time that
queen conceived by the king, and when the period was completed, she
brought forth a daughter beautiful in all her limbs. She surpassed
in splendour the lights in the lying-in chamber, [620] and they,
as it were, heaved sighs by discharging lamp-black. And her father
made great rejoicings, and gave her the name of Karpúriká, which
is his own name made feminine. And gradually that moonlight of the
eyes of the people, the princess Karpúriká, has grown up, and is now
in the full bloom of youth. And her father, the king here, desires
to have her married, but the haughty girl detests men, and will not
consent. And when my daughter, who is her friend, put this question
to her 'My dear, why do you not desire marriage, the only fruit of a
daughter's birth?' she answered, 'My dear, I remember my former birth,
and the cause is something which happened then; hear it."
Story of the princess Karpúriká in her birth as a swan.
On the shore of the ocean there is a great sandal-wood tree. Near it
there is a lake adorned with full-blown lotuses. I was a female swan
on that lake on account of my actions in a previous birth. Once on a
time, out of fear of the sea, I made a nest in that sandal-wood tree
with my husband, who was a male swan. When I was dwelling in that nest,
I had male offspring born to me, and suddenly a great wave of the sea
came and carried them off. When the flood carried away my children,
out of grief I wept and took no food; and remained in front of a linga
of Siva on the shore of the sea. Then that male swan, my husband,
came to me and said--"Rise up, why do you lament your children that
are dead, we shall get other ones. [621] As long as life is preserved,
everything can be obtained." His speech pierced my heart like an arrow,
and I reflected--"Alas! males are thus wickedly regardless of their
youthful offspring, and show no affection to, or compassion for their
females, though they are attached to them. So of what comfort is this
husband to me? Of what use is this body that brings only pain?" Thus
reflecting, I prostrated myself before Siva, and devoutly placed him
in my heart, and then in front of his symbol, before the eyes of the
swan, my husband, I uttered this prayer; "May I become in the next
birth a princess remembering my former state,"--and thereupon I flung
myself into the sea. Consequently, I have been born in this life such
as you see. And because I remember the cruelty of that husband in a
former birth, my mind does not feel inclined to any suitor. So I do
not desire to be married; the rest is in the hands of Destiny. "This
is what the princess said then in private to my daughter, and that
daughter of mine came and told it to me."
"So, my son, I have told you what you asked me. And that princess
is undoubtedly destined to be your wife. For she was long ago
designated by the god Siva as the wife of the future emperor
of the Vidyádharas. And I see that you are marked with all the
distinguishing signs of an emperor, such as the peculiar freckle, and
other marks. Perhaps you are some distinguished person brought here by
Providence for that very purpose. Rise up, for the present we will see
what there is in my house in the way of provision." After the old lady
had told him this, she brought him food, and he and Gomukha spent the
night there. And in the morning, the prince deliberated in private with
Gomukha as to the steps to be taken, and then he assumed the dress of
a Pásupata ascetic, and accompanied by Gomukha, he went to the king's
gate, and roamed about in front of it, crying out again and again--"Ah
my female swan! Ah my female swan!" And the people gazed at him. And
when the maids beheld him thus employed, they went in astonishment
and said to the princess Karpúriká; "Your Highness! we have seen at
the royal gate a Pásupata ascetic who, though he has a fellow, is
unfellowed in beauty, [622] and he continually utters these words,
'Ah my female swan! Ah my female swan!' which bewilders the minds of
the women." When the princess heard this, she, as having been a swan
in a former birth, was filled with curiosity, and had him, just as
he was, conducted by her maids into her presence. And she saw that
he was adorned with infinite beauty, like a new god of Love that had
taken a vow to propitiate Siva. And she said to him, when he looked
at her with an eye expanded by curiosity, "What is this that you are
continually saying, 'Ah! my female swan! Ah! my female swan?'" Though
she said this to him, he went on to say--"Ah! my female swan!" Then his
companion Gomukha answered her; "I will explain this in a few words,
listen, Your Highness.
"In a former birth he was a swan on account of his actions in an
anterior state of existence. Then he built himself a nest in a
sandal-wood tree, on the bank of a great lake near the shore of
the sea, and lived there with his female. And as it happened, their
offspring in that nest were swept away by a wave, and his female,
distracted with grief, threw herself into the sea. Then he, being
grieved at separation from her, and disgusted with his bird-nature,
desirous of leaving that body, made a pious wish in his heart--'May
I be in a future life a prince remembering my former state, and may
this virtuous female swan be my wife, remembering her former existence
also.' Then he thought on Siva, and scorched with the fire of grief,
flung that body into the water of the sea. So he has been now born,
my fair lady, as Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa in
Kausámbí, with the power of recollecting his former existence. When he
was born, a voice said distinctly from heaven; 'This prince shall be
the emperor of all the kings of the Vidyádharas.' In course of time,
when he had become crown-prince, he was married by his father to the
goddess Madanamanchuká of heavenly appearance, who had been born for
a certain reason as a woman. And then the daughter of a king of the