Chapter CXIV.
Glory to Śiva, who assumes various forms; who, though his beloved takes up half his body,[1] is an ascetic, free from qualities, the due object of a world’s adoration! We worship Gaṇeśa, who, when fanning away the cloud of bees, that flies up from his trunk, with his flapping ears, seems to be dispersing the host of obstacles.
Thus Naraváhanadatta, who had been established in the position of lord paramount over all the kings of the Vidyádharas, remained on that Black Mountain in order to get through the rainy season, spending the time in the hermitage of that sage Kaśyapa, and in the society of his maternal uncle Gopálaka, who was living the life of an ascetic. He was accompanied by his ministers, and surrounded by twenty-five of his wives, and attended by various Vidyádhara princes, and he occupied himself in telling tales. One day, the hermits and his wives said to him, “Tell us now! When Mánasavega took away queen Madanamanchuká by his magic power, who amused you impatient of separation, and how did he do it?”
When Naraváhanadatta had been asked this question by those hermits and by his wives, he proceeded to speak as follows; “Can I tell now how great grief I endured, when I found out that that wicked enemy had carried off my queen? There was no building, and no garden, or room, into which I did not roam seeking for her in my grief, and all my ministers with me. Then I sat down, as if beside myself, in a garden at the foot of a tree, and Gomukha, having obtained his opportunity, said to me, in order to console me, ‘Do not be despondent, my sovereign; you will soon recover the queen; for the gods promised that you should rule the Vidyádharas with her as your consort; that must turn out as the gods predicted, for their promises are never falsified; and resolute men, after enduring separation, obtain reunion with those they love. Were not Rámabhadra, king Nala, and your own grandfather,[2] after enduring separation, reunited to their beloved wives? And was not Muktáphalaketu, emperor of the Vidyádharas, reunited to Padmávatí, after he had been separated from her? And now listen, king; I will tell you the story of that couple.’ When Gomukha had said this, he told me the following tale.”
Story of king Brahmadatta and the Swans.[3]
There is in this country a city famous over the earth by the name of Váráṇasí, which, like the body of Śiva, is adorned with the Ganges, and bestows emancipation. With the flags on its temples swayed up and down by the wind, it seems to be ever saying to men “Come hither, and attain salvation.” With the pinnacles of its white palaces it looks like the plateau of mount Kailása, the habitation of the god with the moon for a diadem, and it is full of troops of Śiva’s devoted servants.[4]
In that city there lived of old time a king named Brahmadatta,[5] exclusively devoted to Śiva, a patron of Bráhmans, brave, generous, and compassionate. His commands passed current through the earth, they stumbled not in rocky defiles, they were not whelmed in seas, there were no continents which they did not cross. He had a queen named Somaprabhá,[6] who was dear and delightful to him as the moonlight to the chakora, and he was as eager to drink her in with his eyes. And he had a Bráhman minister named Śivabhúti, equal to Vṛihaspati in intellect, who had fathomed the meaning of all the Śástras.
One night, that king, as he was lying on a bed on the top of a palace exposed to the rays of the moon, saw a couple of swans crossing through the air, with bodies of gleaming gold, looking like two golden lotuses opened in the water of the heavenly Ganges,[7] and attended by a train of king-geese. When that wonderful pair had passed from his eyes, the king was for a long time afflicted, and his mind was full of regret at no longer enjoying that sight. He passed that night without sleeping, and next morning he told his minister Śivabhúti what he had seen, and said to him, “So, if I cannot feast my eyes on those golden swans to my heart’s content, of what profit to me is my kingdom or my life?”
When the king said this to his minister Śivabhúti, he answered him, “Do not be anxious; there is a means of bringing about what you desire; listen, king; I will tell you what it is. Owing to the various influence of actions in a previous birth, various is this infinite host of sentient beings produced by the Creator in this versatile world. This world is really fraught with woe, but owing to delusion there arises in creatures the fancy that happiness is to be found in it, and they take pleasure in house, and food, and drink, and so become attached to it. And Providence has appointed that different kinds of food, drink, and dwellings, should be agreeable to different creatures, according to the classes to which they respectively belong. So have made, king, a great lake to be the dwelling-place of these swans, covered with various kinds of lotuses, and watched by guards, where they will be free from molestation. And keep always scattering on the bank food of the kind that birds love, in order that water-birds may quickly come there from various quarters. Among them these two golden swans will certainly come; and then you will be able to gaze on them continually: do not be despondent.”
When king Brahmadatta’s minister said this to him, he had that great lake made according to his directions, and it was ready in a moment. The lake was frequented by swans, sárasas and chakravákas,[8] and after a time that couple of swans came there, and settled down on a clump of lotuses in it. Then the guards set to watch the lake came and informed the king of that fact, and he went down to the lake in a state of great delight, considering that his object had been accomplished. And he beheld those golden swans, and worshipped them from a distance, and ministered to their comfort by scattering for them grains of rice dipped in milk. And the king took so much interest in them that he spent his whole time on the bank of that lake watching those swans with their bodies of pure gold, their eyes of pearl, their beaks and feet of coral, and the tips of their wings of emerald,[9] which had come there in perfect confidence.
Now, one day, as the king was roaming along the bank of the lake, he saw in one place a pious offering made with unfading flowers. And he said to the guards there, “Who made this offering?” Then the guards of the lake said to the king, “Every day, at dawn, noon, and sunset, these golden swans bathe in the lake, and make these offerings, and stand absorbed in contemplation: so we cannot say, king, what is the meaning of this great wonder.” When the king heard this from the guards, he said to himself, “Such a proceeding is quite inconsistent with the nature of swans; surely there must be a reason for this. So, I will perform asceticism until I find out who these swans are.” Then the king and his wife and his minister gave up food, and remained performing penance and absorbed in meditation on Śiva. And after the king had fasted for twelve days, the two heavenly swans came to him, and said to him in a dream with articulate voice, “Rise up, king; to-morrow we will tell you and your wife and minister, after you have broken your fast, the whole truth of the matter in private.” When the swans had said this, they disappeared, and next morning the king and his wife and his minister, as soon as they awoke, rose up, and broke their fast. And after they had eaten, the two swans came to them, as they were sitting in a pleasure-pavilion near the water. The king received them with respect, and said to them, “Tell me who you are.” Then they proceeded to tell him their history.