Chapter XVI.
Then Yaugandharáyaṇa and the other ministers managed to conduct the king of Vatsa with his beloved, by the above-mentioned stratagem, to Lávánaka. The king arrived at that place, which, by the roar of the host echoing through it, seemed, as it were, to proclaim that the ministers’ object would be successfully attained. And the king of Magadha, when he heard that the lord of Vatsa had arrived there with a large following, trembled, anticipating attack. But he being wise, sent an ambassador to Yaugandharáyaṇa, and that excellent minister well-versed in his duties, received him gladly. The king of Vatsa for his part, while staying in that place, ranged every day the wide-extended forest for the sake of sport. One day, the king having gone to hunt, the wise Yaugandharáyaṇa accompanied by Gopálaka, having arranged what was to be done, and taking with him also Rumaṇvat and Vasantaka, went secretly to the queen Vásavadattá, who bowed at their approach. There he used various representations to persuade her to assist in furthering the king’s interests, though she had been previously informed of the whole affair by her brother. And she agreed to the proposal, though it inflicted on her the pain of separation. What indeed is there which women of good family, who are attached to their husbands, will not endure? Thereupon the skilful Yaugandharáyaṇa made her assume the appearance of a Bráhman woman, having given her a charm, which enabled her to change her shape. And he made Vasantaka one-eyed and like a Bráhman boy, and as for himself, he in the same way assumed the appearance of an old Bráhman. Then that mighty-minded one took the queen, after she had assumed that appearance, and accompanied by Vasantaka, set out leisurely for the town of Magadha. And so Vásavadattá left her house, and went in bodily presence along the road, though she wandered in spirit to her husband. Then Rumaṇvat burnt her pavilion with fire, and exclaimed aloud—“Alas! alas! The queen and Vasantaka are burnt.” And so in that place there rose to heaven at the same time flames and lamentation; the flames gradually subsided, not so the sound of weeping. Then Yaugandharáyaṇa with Vásavadattá and Vasantaka reached the city of the king of Magadha, and seeing the princess Padmávatí in the garden, he went up to her with those two, though the guards tried to prevent him. And Padmávatí, when she saw the queen Vásavadattá in the dress of a Bráhman woman, fell in love with her at first sight. The princess ordered the guards to desist from their opposition, and had Yaugandharáyaṇa, who was disguised as a Bráhman, conducted into her presence. And she addressed to him this question, “Great Bráhman, who is this girl you have with you, and why are you come?” And he answered her, “Princess, this is my daughter Ávantiká by name, and her husband, being addicted to vice,[1] has deserted her and fled somewhere or other. So I will leave her in your care, illustrious lady, while I go and find her husband, and bring him back, which will be in a short time. And let this one-eyed boy, her brother, remain here near her, in order that she may not be grieved at having to remain alone.” He said this to the princess, and she granted his request, and, taking leave of the queen, the good minister quickly returned to Lávánaka. Then Padmávatí took with her Vásavadattá, who was passing under the name of Ávantiká, and Vasantaka who accompanied her in the form of a one-eyed boy; and shewing her excellent disposition by her kind reception and affectionate treatment of them, entered her splendidly-adorned palace; and there Vásavadattá, seeing Sítá in the history of Ráma represented upon the painted walls, was enabled to bear her own sorrow. And Padmávatí perceived that Vásavadattá was a person of very high rank, by her shape, her delicate softness, the graceful manner in which she sat down, and ate, and also by the smell of her body, which was fragrant as the blue lotus, and so she entertained her with luxurious comfort to her heart’s content, even such as she enjoyed herself. And she thought to herself, “Surely she is some distinguished person remaining here in concealment; did not Draupadí remain concealed in the palace of the king of Viráṭa?” Then Vásavadattá, out of regard for the princess made for her unfading garlands and forehead-streaks, as the king of Vatsa had previously taught her; and Padmávatí’s mother, seeing her adorned with them, asked her privately who had made those garlands and streaks. Then Padmávatí said to her, “There is dwelling here in my house a certain lady of the name of Ávantiká, she made all these for me.” When her mother heard that, she said to her, then, my daughter, she is not a woman, she is some goddess, since she possesses such knowledge; gods and also hermits remain in the houses of good people for the sake of deluding them, and in proof of this listen to the following anecdote.