Story of Ahalyá.
Once upon a time there was a great hermit named Gautama, who knew the past, the present, and the future. And he had a wife named Ahalyá, who in beauty surpassed the nymphs of heaven. One day Indra, in love with her beauty, tempted her in secret, for the mind of rulers, blinded with power, runs towards unlawful objects.
And she in her folly encouraged that husband of Śachí, being the slave of her passions; but the hermit Gautama found out the intrigue by his superhuman power, and arrived upon the scene. And Indra immediately assumed, out of fear, the form of a cat. Then Gautama said to Ahalyá; “Who is here?” She answered her husband ambiguously in the Prákrit dialect,—“Here forsooth is a cat,” so managing to preserve verbal truth.[15] Then Gautama said, laughing, “It is quite true that your lover is here,—and he inflicted on her a curse, but ordained that it should terminate because she had shewed some regard for truth.” The curse ran as follows; “Woman of bad character, take for a long time the nature of a stone, until thou behold Ráma wandering in the forest.” And Gautama at the same time inflicted on the god Indra the following curse; “A thousand pictures of that which thou hast desired shall be upon thy body, but when thou shalt behold Tilottamá, a heavenly nymph, whom Viśvakarman shall make, they shall turn into a thousand eyes.” When he had pronounced this curse, the hermit returned to his austerities according to his desire, but Ahalyá for her part assumed the awful condition of a stone. And Indra immediately had his body covered with repulsive marks; for to whom is not immorality a cause of humiliation?
“So true is it that every man’s evil actions always bear fruit in himself, for whatever seed a man sows, of that he reaps the fruit. Therefore persons of noble character never desire that, which is disagreeable to their neighbours, for this is the invariable observance of the good, prescribed by divine law. And you two were sister goddesses in a former birth, but you have been degraded in consequence of a curse, and accordingly your hearts are free from strife and bent on doing one another good turns.” When they heard this from Vasantaka, Vásavadattá and Padmávatí dismissed from their hearts even the smallest remnants of mutual jealousy. But the queen Vásavadattá made her husband equally the property of both, and acted as kindly to Padmávatí as if she were herself, desiring her welfare.
When the king of Magadha heard of that so great generosity of hers from the messengers sent by Padmávatí, he was much pleased. So on the next day the minister Yaugandharáyaṇa came up to the king of Vatsa in the presence of the queen, the others also standing by, and said, “Why do we not go now to Kauśámbí, my prince, in order to begin our enterprise, for we know that there is nothing to be feared from the king of Magadha, even though he has been deceived? For he has been completely gained over by means of the negotiation termed ‘Giving of a daughter’: and how could he make war and so abandon his daughter whom he loves more than life? He must keep his word; moreover he has not been deceived by you; I did it all myself; and it does not displease him; indeed I have learned from my spies that he will not act in a hostile way, and it was for this very purpose that we remained here for these days.” While Yaugandharáyaṇa, who had accomplished the task he had in hand, was speaking thus, a messenger belonging to the king of Magadha arrived there, and entered into the palace immediately, being announced by the warder, and after he had done obeisance, he sat down and said to the king of Vatsa; “The king of Magadha is delighted with the intelligence sent by the queen Padmávatí, and he now sends this message to your Highness—‘What need is there of many words? I have heard all, and I am pleased with thee. Therefore do the thing for the sake of which this beginning has been made; we submit ourselves.’” The king of Vatsa joyfully received this clear speech of the messenger’s, resembling the blossom of the tree of policy planted by Yaugandharáyaṇa. Then he brought Padmávatí with the queen, and, after he had bestowed a present upon the messenger, he dismissed him with honour. Then a messenger from Chaṇḍamahásena also arrived, and, after entering, he bowed before the king, according to custom, and said to him, “O king, his majesty Chaṇḍamahásena, who understands the secrets of policy, has learnt the state of thy affairs and delighted sends this message—‘Your majesty’s excellence is plainly declared by this one fact, that you have Yaugandharáyaṇa for your minister, what need of further speeches? Blessed too is Vásavadattá, who, through devotion to you, has done a deed which makes us exalt our head for ever among the good, moreover Padmávatí is not separated from Vásavadattá in my regard, for they two have one heart; therefore quickly exert yourself.’”
When the king of Vatsa heard this speech of his father-in-law’s messenger, joy suddenly arose in his heart, and his exceeding warmth of affection for the queen was increased, and also the great respect which he felt for his excellent minister. Then the king, together with the queens, entertained the messenger according to the laws of due hospitality, in joyful excitement of mind, and sent him away pleased; and as he was bent on commencing his enterprise, he determined, after deliberating with his ministers, on returning to Kauśámbí.
[1] For parallels to the story of Urvaśí, see Kuhn’s Herabkunft des Feuer’s, p. 88.
[2] This, with the water weapon, and that of whirlwind, is mentioned in the Rámáyaṇa and the Uttara Ráma Charita.
[3] Or Devarshi, belonging to the highest class of Ṛishis or patriarchal saints.
[4] This dance is mentioned in the 1st Act of the Málavikágnimitra.
[5] Literally broke. The vyádhi or disease must have been of the nature of an abscess.
[6] Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur. (Publius Syrus.)
[7] Liebrecht in an essay on some modern Greek songs (Zur Volkskunde, p. 211) gives numerous stories of children who spoke shortly after birth. It appears to have been generally considered an evil omen. Cp. the Romance of Merlin. (Dunlop’s History of Fiction, p. 146.) See Baring Gould’s Curious Myths of the Middle Ages (New Edition, 1869) p. 170. In a startling announcement of the birth of Antichrist which appeared in 1623, purporting to come from the brothers of the Order of St. John, the following passage occurs,—“The child is dusky, has pleasant mouth and eyes, teeth pointed like those of a cat, ears large, stature by no means exceeding that of other children; the said child, incontinent on his birth, walked and talked perfectly well.”
[8] More literally; blockaded his house with policemen, and his throat with tears.
[9] So in the XXIst of Miss Stokes’s Indian Fairy Tales the fakir changes the king’s son into a fly. Cp. also Veckenstedt’s Wendische Sagen, p. 127.
[10] Ficus Indica. Such a tree is said to have sheltered an army. Its branches take root and form a natural cloister. Cp. Milton’s Paradise Lost, Book IX, lines 1000 and ff.
[11] Grimm in his Teutonic Mythology (translation by Stallybrass, p. 121, note,) connects the description of wonderful maidens sitting inside hollow trees or perched on the boughs, with tree-worship. See also Grohmann’s Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 41.
[12] For the illuminating power of female beauty, see Note 3 to the 1st Tale in Miss Stokes’s Collection, where parallels are cited from the folk-lore of Europe and Asia.
[13] Kámadhenu means a cow granting all desires; such a cow is said to have belonged to the sage Vaśishṭa.
[14] Conciliation, bribery, sowing dissension, and war.
[15] The Prákrit word majjáo means “a cat” and also “my lover.”