Story of Anangarati and her four suitors.
There is on the earth a city, rightly named Śúrapura,[4] and in it there lived a king named Mahávaráha, the destroyer of his foes. That king had a daughter named Anangarati, born to him by his wife Padmarati, owing to his having propitiated Gaurí, and he had no other children. And in course of time she attained womanhood, and proud of her beauty, she did not wish to have any husband, though kings asked her in marriage. But she said decidedly; “I must be given to a man who is brave and handsome, and knows some one splendid accomplishment.
Then there came from the Dekhan four heroes, who, having heard tidings of her, were eager to obtain her, and they were furnished with the qualities which she desired. They were announced by the warder and introduced, and then king Mahávaráha asked them in the presence of Anangarati; “What are your names? what is your descent, and what do you know?” When they heard this speech of the king’s, one of them said—“I am Panchaphuṭṭika by name, a Śúdra; I possess a peculiar talent; I weave every day five pairs of garments, one of them I give to a Bráhman, and the second I offer to Śiva, and the third I wear myself, and as for the fourth, if I had a wife, I would give it to her, and the fifth I sell, and live upon the proceeds.” Then the second said, “I am a Vaiśya named Bháshájna; I know the language of all beasts and birds.”[5]
Then the third said, “I am a Kshatriya named Khaḍgadhara, and no one surpasses me in fighting with the sword.” And the fourth said, “I am an excellent Bráhman named Jívadatta; by means of the sciences which I possess by the favour of Gaurí, I can raise to life a dead woman.”[6] When they had thus spoken, the Śúdra, the Vaiśya, and the Kshatriya one after another praised their own beauty, courage and might, but the Bráhman praised his might and valour, and said nothing about his beauty.
Then king Mahávaráha said to his door-keeper—“Take all these now and make them rest in your house.” The door-keeper, when he heard the order, took them to his house. Then the king said to his daughter Anangarati, “My daughter, which of these four heroes do you prefer?” When Anangarati heard that, she said to her father; “Father, I do not like any one of the four; the first is a Śúdra and a weaver, what is the use of his good qualities? The second is a Vaiśya, and what is the use of his knowing the language of cattle, and so on? How can I give myself to them, when I am a Kshatriya woman? The third indeed is a meritorious Kshatriya, equal to me in birth, but be is a poor man and lives by service, selling his life. As I am the daughter of a king, how can I become his wife? The fourth, the Bráhman Jívadatta, I do not like; he is ugly and is addicted to unlawful arts, and, as he has deserted the Vedas, he has fallen from his high position. You ought to punish him, why do you offer to give me to him? For you, my father, being a king, are the upholder of the castes and the various stages of life. And a king, who is a hero in upholding religion, is preferred to a king, who is only a hero with the sword. A hero in religion will be the lord of a thousand heroes with the sword.” When his daughter had said this, the king dismissed her to her own private apartments, and rose up to bathe and perform his other duties.
And the next day, the four heroes went out from the house of the door-keeper, and roamed about in the town out of curiosity. And at that very time a vicious elephant, named Padmakabala, broke his fastening, and in his fury rushed out from the elephant-stable, trampling down the citizens. And that great elephant, when he saw the four heroes, rushed towards them to slay them, and they too advanced towards him with uplifted weapons. Then the one Kshatriya among them, named Khaḍgadhara, putting aside the other three, alone attacked that elephant. And he cut off with one blow the protended trunk of that roaring elephant, with as much ease as if it had been a lotus-stalk. And after showing his agility by escaping between his feet, he delivered a second blow on the back of that elephant. And with the third he cut off both his feet. Then that elephant gave a groan and fell down and died. All the people were astonished when they beheld that valour of his, and king Mahávaráha was also amazed when he heard of it.
The next day, the king went out to hunt, mounted on an elephant, and the four heroes, with Khaḍgadhara at their head, accompanied him. There the king with his army slew tigers, deer, and boars, and the lions rushed out upon him in anger, hearing the trumpeting of the elephants. Then that Khaḍgadhara cleft in twain, with one blow of his sharp sword, the first lion that attacked them, and the second he seized with his left hand by the foot, and dashing it on the earth, deprived it of life. And in the same way Bháshájna, and Jívadatta, and Panchaphuṭṭika, each dashed a lion to pieces on the earth. Thus in turn those heroes killed on foot many tigers, and lions, and other animals, with ease, before the eyes of the king. Then that king, being pleased and astonished, after he had finished his hunting, entered his city, and those heroes went to the house of the door-keeper. And the king entered the harem, and though tired, had his daughter Anangarati quickly summoned. And after describing the valour of those heroes, one by one, as he had seen it in the chase, he said to her who was much astonished—“Even if Panchaphuṭṭika and Bháshájna are of inferior caste, and Jívadatta, though a Bráhman, is ugly and addicted to forbidden practices, what fault is there in the Kshatriya Khaḍgadhara, who is handsome, and of noble stature, and is distinguished for strength and valour; who slew such an elephant, and who takes lions by the foot and crushes them on the ground, and slays others with the sword? And if it is made a ground of reproach against him that he is poor and a servant, I will immediately make him a lord to be served by others: so choose him for a husband, if you please, my daughter.” When Anangarati heard this from her father, she said to him—“Well then, bring all those men here, and ask the astrologer, and let us see what he says.” When she said this to him, the king summoned those heroes, and in their presence he, accompanied by his wives, said to the astrologer with his own mouth: “Find out with which of these Anangarati has conformity of horoscope, and when a favourable moment will arrive for her marriage.” When the skilful astrologer heard that, he asked the stars under which they were born, and after long considering the time, he said to that king—“If you will not be angry with me, king, I will tell you plainly. Your daughter has no conformity of lot with any one of them. And she will not be married on earth, for she is a Vidyádharí fallen by a curse; that curse of hers will be at an end in three months. So let these wait here three months, and if she is not gone to her own world then, the marriage shall take place.” All those heroes accepted the advice of that astrologer, and remained there for three months.
When three months had passed, the king summoned into his presence those heroes, and that astrologer, and Anangarati. And the king, when he saw that his daughter had suddenly become exceedingly beautiful, rejoiced, but the astrologer thought that the hour of her death had arrived. And while the king was saying to the astrologer—“Now tell me what it is proper to do, for those three months are gone,” Anangarati called to mind her former birth, and covering her face with her garment, she abandoned that human body. The king thought—“Why has she put herself in this position?” But when he himself uncovered her face, he saw that she was dead, like a frost-smitten lotus-plant, for her eyes like bees had ceased to revolve, the lotus-flower of her face was pale, and the sweet sound of her voice had ceased, even as the sound of the swans departs. Then the king suddenly fell to earth motionless, smitten by the thunderbolt of grief for her, crushed by the extinction of his race.[7] And the queen Padmarati also fell down to the earth in a swoon, and with her ornaments fallen from her like flowers, appeared like a cluster of blossoms broken by an elephant.
The attendants raised cries of lamentation, and those heroes were full of grief, but the king, immediately recovering consciousness, said to that Jívadatta, “In this matter those others have no power, but now it is your opportunity; you boasted that you could raise to life a dead woman; if you possess power by means of science, then recall my daughter to life; I will give her, when restored to life, to you as being a Bráhman.” When Jívadatta heard this speech of the king’s, he sprinkled that princess with water, over which charms had been said, and chanted this Áryá verse: “O thou of the loud laugh, adorned with a garland of skulls, not to be gazed on, Chámuṇḍá, the terrible goddess, assist me quickly.” When, in spite of this effort of Jívadatta’s, that maiden was not restored to life, he was despondent, and said—“My science, though bestowed by the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya range, has proved fruitless, so what is the use to me of my life that has become an object of scorn?” When he had said this, he was preparing to cut off his head with a great sword, when a voice came from the sky—“O Jívadatta, do not act rashly, listen now. This noble Vidyádhara maiden, named Anangaprabhá, has been for so long a time a mortal owing to the curse of her parents. She has now quitted this human body, and has gone to her own world, and taken her own body. So go and propitiate again the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya hills, and by her favour you shall recover this noble Vidyádhara maiden. But as she is enjoying heavenly bliss, neither you nor the king ought to mourn for her.” When the heavenly voice had told this true tale, it ceased. Then the king performed his daughter’s rites, and he and his wife ceased to mourn for her, and those other three heroes returned as they had come.
But hope was kindled in the breast of Jívadatta, and he went and propitiated with austerities the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and she said to him in a dream:
“I am satisfied with thee, so rise up and listen to this that I am about to tell thee.”