Chapter XLIII.
The next morning, Naraváhanadatta rose up from the bank of that lake,[1] and setting out on his journey, said to his minister Gomukha; “My friend, I remember, a certain princess of heavenly beauty, dressed in white garments, came to me towards the end of last night in a dream, and said this to me—‘Lay aside your anxiety, dear one, for you will quickly reach a large and wonderful town situated in a forest, on the shore of the sea. And after resting there, you shall with ease find that town Karpúrasambhava, and then win that princess Karpúriká.’ Having said this, she disappeared, and I immediately woke up.” When he said that, Gomukha was delighted and said to him—“King, you are favoured by the gods; what is difficult to you? So your enterprise will certainly succeed without difficulty.” When Gomukha had said this, Naraváhanadatta hastened along the path with him. And in course of time he reached a city of vast extent on the shore of the sea, furnished with lofty mansions resembling the peaks of mountains, with streets, and arches, adorned with a palace all golden like mount Meru, looking like a second Earth. He entered that city by the market-street, and beheld that all the population, merchants, women, and citizens were wooden automata, that moved as if they were alive, but were recognised as lifeless by their want of speech. This aroused astonishment in his mind. And in due course he arrived with Gomukha near the king’s palace, and saw that all the horses and elephants there were of the same material; and with his minister he entered, full of wonder, that palace, which was resplendent with seven ranges of golden buildings. There he saw a majestic man sitting on a jewelled throne, surrounded by warders and women, who were also wooden automata, the only living being there, who produced motion in those dull material things, like the soul presiding over the senses. He, for his part, seeing that that hero Naraváhanadatta was of noble form, rose up and welcomed him, and made him sit down on his own seat, and sitting in front of him, he thus questioned him, “Who are you; how and why have you come to this uninhabited land with one companion?” Then Naraváhanadatta told his own story from the beginning, and asked that hero, who was prostrating himself before him,—“Who are you, my good sir, and what is this wonderful city of yours? Tell me.” That man, when he heard that, began to tell his own story.