Story of Śaktivega king of the Vidyádharas.
There lived long ago in a city called Vardhamána,[3] the ornament of the earth, a king the terror of his foes, called Paropakárin. And this exalted monarch possessed a queen of the name of Kanakaprabhá,[4] as the cloud holds the lightning, but she had not the fickleness of the lightning. And in course of time there was born to him by that queen a daughter, who seemed to have been formed by the Creator to dash Lakshmí’s pride in her beauty. And that moon of the eyes of the world was gradually reared to womanhood by her father, who gave her the name of Kanakarekhá suggested by her mother’s name Kanakaprabhá. Once on a time, when she had grown up, the king, her father, said to the queen Kanakaprabhá, who came to him in secret: “A grown up daughter cannot be kept in one’s house, accordingly Kanakarekhá troubles my heart with anxiety about a suitable marriage for her. For a maiden of good family, who does not obtain a proper position, is like a song out of tune; when heard of by the ears even of one unconnected with her, she causes distress. But a daughter, who through folly is made over to one not suitable, is like learning imparted to one not fit to receive it, and cannot tend to glory or merit but only to regret. So I am very anxious as to what king I must give this daughter of mine to, and who will be a fit match for her.” When Kanakaprabhá heard this, she laughed and said,—“You say this, but your daughter does not wish to be married; for to-day when she was playing with a doll and making believe it was a child, I said to her in fun, ‘My daughter, when shall I see you married?’ When she heard that, she answered me reproachfully: ‘Do not say so, you must not marry me to any one; and my separation from you is not appointed, I do well enough as a maiden, but if I am married, know that I shall be a corpse; there is a certain reason for this.’ As she has said this to me I have come to you, O king, in a state of distress; for, as she has refused to be married, what use is there in deliberating about a bridegroom?” When the king heard this from the queen, he was bewildered, and going to the private apartments of the princess he said to his daughter: “When the maidens of the gods and Asuras practise austerities in order to obtain a husband, why, my daughter, do you refuse to take one?’ When the princess Kanakarekhá heard this speech of her father’s, she fixed her eyes on the ground and said, Father, I do not desire to be married at present, so what object has my father in it, and why does he insist upon it?” That king Paropakárin, when his daughter addressed him in that way, being the discreetest of men, thus answered her: “How can sin be avoided unless a daughter is given in marriage? And independence is not fit for a maiden who ought to be in dependence on relations? For a daughter in truth is born for the sake of another and is kept for him. The house of her father is not a fit place for her except in childhood. For if a daughter reaches puberty unmarried, her relations go to hell, and she is an outcast, and her bridegroom is called the husband of an outcast.” When her father said this to her, the princess Kanakarekhá immediately uttered a speech that was in her mind, “Father, if this is so, then whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya has succeeded in seeing the city called the Golden City, to him I must be given, and he shall be my husband, and if none such is found, you must not unjustly reproach me.” When his daughter said that to him, that king reflected: “It is a good thing at any rate that she has agreed to be married on a certain condition, and no doubt she is some goddess born in my house for a special reason, for else how comes she to know so much though she is a child?” Such were the king’s reflections at that time: so he said to his daughter, “I will do as you wish,” and then he rose up and did his day’s work. And on the next day, as he was sitting in the hall of audience, he said to his courtiers, “Has any one among you seen the city called the Golden City? Whoever has seen it, if he be a Bráhman or a Kshatriya, I will give him my daughter Kanakarekhá, and make him crown-prince.” And they all, looking at one another’s faces, said, “We have not even heard of it, much less have we seen it.” Then the king summoned the warder and said to him, “Go and cause a proclamation to be circulated in the whole of this town with the beating of drums, and find out if any one has really seen that city.” When the warder received this order, he said, “I will do so,” and went out; and after he had gone out, he immediately gave orders to the police, and caused a drum to be beaten all round the city, thus arousing curiosity to hear the proclamation, which ran as follows: “Whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya youth has seen the city called the Golden City, let him speak, and the king will give him his daughter and the rank of crown-prince.” Such was the astounding announcement proclaimed all about the town after the drum had been beaten. And the citizens said, after hearing that proclamation: “What is this Golden City that is to-day proclaimed in our town, which has never been heard of or seen even by those among us who are old?” But not a single one among them said, “I have seen it.”
And in the meanwhile a Bráhman living in that town, Śaktideva by name, the son of Baladeva, heard that proclamation; that youth, being addicted to vice, had been rapidly stripped of his wealth at the gaming-table, and he reflected, being excited by hearing of the giving in marriage of the king’s daughter: “As I have lost all my wealth by gambling, I cannot now enter the house of my father, nor even the house of a hetæra, so, as I have no resource, it is better for me to assert falsely to those who are making the proclamation by beat of drum, that I have seen that city. Who will discover that I know nothing about it, for who has ever seen it? And in this way I may perhaps marry the princess.” Thus reflecting Śaktideva went to the police, and said falsely, “I have seen that city.” They immediately said to him, “Bravo! then come with us to the king’s warder.” So he went with them to the warder. And in the same way he falsely asserted to him that he had seen that city, and he welcomed him kindly, and took him to the king. And without wavering he maintained the very same story in the presence of the king: what indeed is difficult for a blackleg to do who is ruined by play? Then the king, in order to ascertain the truth, sent that Bráhman to his daughter Kanakarekhá, and when she heard of the matter from the mouth of the warder, and the Bráhman came near, she asked him: “Have you seen that Golden City?” Then he answered her, “Yes, that city was seen by me when I was roaming through the earth in quest of knowledge.”[5] She next asked him, “By what road did you go there, and what is it like?” That Bráhman then went on to say: “From this place I went to a town called Harapura, and from that I next came to the city of Benares; and from Benares in a few days to the city of Pauṇḍravardhana, thence I went to that city called the Golden City, and I saw it, a place of enjoyment for those who act aright, like the city of Indra, the glory of which is made for the delight of gods.[6] And having acquired learning there, I returned here after some time; such is the path by which I went, and such is that city.” After that fraudulent Bráhman Śaktideva had made up this story, the princess said with a laugh;—“Great Bráhman, you have indeed seen that city, but tell me, tell me again by what path you went.” When Śaktideva heard that, he again displayed his effrontery, and then the princess had him put out by her servants. And immediately after putting him out, she went to her father, and her father asked her: “Did that Bráhman speak the truth?”—And then the princess said to her father: “Though you are a king you act without due consideration; do you not know that rogues deceive honest people? For that Bráhman simply wants to impose on me with a falsehood, but the liar has never seen the golden city. And all kinds of deceptions are practised on the earth by rogues; for listen to the story of Śiva and Mádhava, which I will tell you.” Having said this, the princess told the following tale: