Story of Aśokamálá.
My sovereign, I am the daughter of a Kshatriya in this city, named Balasena, and my name is Aśokamálá. When I was a virgin, I was demanded from my father by a rich Bráhman named Haṭhaśarman, who was captivated by my beauty. And I said to my father; “I do not like this ugly grim-visaged man for a husband; if you give me to him, I will not remain in his house.” Though Haṭhaśarman heard that, he sat in dharna at the door of my father’s house, until he gave me to him, being afraid of causing the death of a Bráhman. Then the Bráhman married me and carried me off reluctant, and I deserted him, and fled to another man, the son of a Kshatriya. But that Haṭhaśarman managed to crush him by the power of his wealth, and then I went to another Kshatriya, who was well off. Then this Bráhman went at night and set his house on fire. Then he abandoned me, and I went to a third Kshatriya, and this Bráhman burnt his house also at night. Then I was abandoned by him also, and I became a fugitive, flying in terror, as the sheep flies from the jackal, from that Haṭhaśarman, who wishes to slay me, and follows me step by step. In this very city I entered the service of the mighty Víraśarman your servant, a Rájpút who protects the helpless. When the wicked Haṭhaśarman found that out, he was miserable at having no hope of recovering me, and being afflicted with separation, he was reduced to skin and bone. But the Rájpút Víraśarman, when disposed to imprison him for my protection, was prevented by me, O queen. To-day it chanced that I went outside the house, and Haṭhaśarman, seeing me, drew his sword and rushed on me to kill me, but I thereupon fled here, and the female warder, melted with compassion, opened the door and let me enter, but he, I know, is waiting for me outside.
When she said this, the king had the Bráhman Haṭhaśarman summoned into his presence; he looked at Aśokamálá with an eye inflamed with anger, his form was distorted, he held a sword in his hand, and the joints of his limbs trembled with rage. The king said to him, “Wicked Bráhman, do you try to kill a woman, and for her sake set on fire your neighbours’ houses? Why are you so wicked?” When the Bráhman heard that, he said, “She is my lawful wife. She has left my protection and gone elsewhere, how could I endure that?” When he said this, Aśokamálá, in distress, exclaimed, “O guardians of the world, tell me this; did he not in your presence marry me and carry me off by force against my own will? And did I not say at the time, ‘I will not dwell in his house?’” When she said this, a heavenly voice said, “The statement of Aśokamálá is true. But she is not a woman; hear the truth about her. There is a heroic king of the Vidyádharas named Aśokakara. He had no sons, and once on a time it happened that a daughter was born to him, and she grew up in the house of her father, under the name of Aśokamálá. And when she arrived at an adult age, and he, desiring to perpetuate his race, offered her in marriage, she would not take any husband, through exceeding pride in her own beauty. For that reason her father, vexed with her obstinacy, denounced this curse on her; ‘Become a mortal, and in that state thou shalt have the same name. And an ugly Bráhman shall marry thee by force; thou shalt abandon him, and in thy fear resort to three husbands in succession. Even then he shall persecute thee, and thou shalt take refuge with a mighty Kshatriya as his slave, but even then the Bráhman shall not desist from persecuting thee. And he shall see thee, and run after thee, with the object of killing thee, but thou shalt escape, and entering the king’s palace, shalt be delivered from this curse.’
Accordingly that very Vidyádharí, Aśokamálá, who was in old time cursed by her father, has now been born as a woman under the same name. And this appointed end of her curse has now arrived. She shall now repair to her Vidyádhara home, and enter her own body which is there. There she, remembering her curse, shall live happily with a Vidyádhara prince, named Abhiruchita, who shall become her husband.” When the heavenly voice had said this, it ceased, and immediately that Aśokamálá fell dead on the ground. But the king and Alaṅkáravatí, when they saw that, had their eyes suffused with tears, and so had their courtiers. But in Haṭhaśarman grief overpowered anger, and he wept, blinded with passion. Then his eyes suddenly became expanded with joy. All of them thereupon said to him,—“What does this mean?” Then that Bráhman said, “I remember my former birth, and I will give an account of it, listen.”
Story of Sthúlabhuja.
On the Himálayas there is a splendid city, named Madanapura; in it dwelt a Vidyádhara prince, named Pralambabhuja. He had born to him, my lord, a son named Sthúlabhuja, and he in course of time became a handsome prince in the flower of youth. Then a king of the Vidyádharas, named Surabhivatsa, came with his daughter to the palace of that king Pralambabhuja, and said to him: “I give this daughter of mine, called Surabhidattá, to your son Sthúlabhuja; let the accomplished youth marry her now.” When Pralambabhuja heard this, he approved it, and summoning his son, he communicated the matter to him. Then his son Sthúlabhuja, out of pride in his beauty, said to him, “I will not marry her, my father, for she is not a first-class beauty.” His father thereupon said to him, “What does her plainness matter? For she is of high lineage and must be honoured on that account, and her father offered her to me for you, and I have accepted her, so do not refuse.” Although Sthúlabhuja was thus entreated a second time by his father, he would not consent to marry her. Then his father, in his anger, denounced against him the following curse—“On account of this your pride in your good looks, be born as a man, and in that state you shall be ugly and with a large mouth. And you shall acquire by force a wife named Aśokamálá, also fallen by a curse, and she, not liking you, shall leave you, and you shall experience the grief of separation. And as she shall be attached to another, you shall commit for her sake arson and other crimes, being maddened with passion and emaciated with grief.” When Pralambabhuja had uttered this curse, that virtuous Surabhidattá clung to his feet, weeping, and entreated him, “Pronounce a curse on me also, let our lot be the same, let not my husband alone suffer calamity owing to my fault.” When she said this, Pralambabhuja was pleased, and, in order to comfort that virtuous woman, he appointed for her this end to his son’s curse: “Whenever Aśokamálá shall be released from her curse, then he shall remember his birth and be released from this curse, and he shall regain his own body, and remembering his curse, he shall be free from pride, and soon marry you; then he shall live with you in happiness.” When the virtuous woman was thus addressed by him, she managed to recover her self-composure.
“Know that I am that very Sthúlabhuja, fallen here by a curse, and I have experienced this great grief owing to the fault of pride. How can proud men have happiness in a previous or in a present state of existence? And that curse of mine is now at an end.” After saying this, Haṭhaśarman abandoned that body, and became a Vidyádhara youth. And he took by the might of his science the body of Aśokamálá, and flung it, without its being seen, into the Ganges, out of compassion. And he sprinkled immediately the chamber of Alaṅkáravatí all round with water of the Ganges, brought by the might of his science, and after bending before Naraváhanadatta, his future lord, he flew up into the heaven to his destined prosperity.
All being astonished, Gomukha told this story of Anangarati, which was appropriate to the incident—