When Naraváhanadatta had in these words praised Vishṇu, the god looked upon him with a favourable eye, and said to Nárada: “Go and demand back from Indra in my name those lovely Apsarases of mine, who long ago sprang from the sea of milk, and whom I deposited in his hand, and make them mount the chariot of Indra, and quickly bring them here.” When Nárada received this command from Hari, he said “So be it,” and with Mátali he brought the Apsarases from Indra in his chariot, and then bowing he presented the Apsarases to Vishṇu, and the Holy one spake thus to the son of the king of Vatsa—“Naraváhanadatta, I give these Apsarases to thee, the future emperor of the kings of the Vidyádharas. Thou art a fitting husband for them, and they are fitting wives for thee, for thou hast been created by Śiva as an incarnation of the god of Love.” When Vishṇu said that, the son of the king of Vatsa fell at his feet, delighted at having obtained favour, and Vishṇu thus commanded Mátali,—“Let this Naraváhanadatta, together with the Apsarases, be taken back by thee to his palace, by whatever path he desires.”
When the Holy one gave this command, Naraváhanadatta, with the Apsarases and those sons of gods who invited him, mounted the chariot which was driven by Mátali, and went to the island of Nárikela, being envied even by gods. There the successful hero, honoured by those four sons of gods, Rúpasiddhi and his brethren, and accompanied by Indra’s chariot, sported in succession on those four mountains on which they dwelt, Maináka, Vṛishabha, and the others, that vied with heaven, in the company of those Apsarases. And he roamed, full of joy, in the thickets of their pleasure-grounds, the various splendid trees of which were in blossom on account of the arrival of the month of spring. And those sons of gods said to him: “See! these clusters on the trees seem to be regarding with the expanded eyes of their open flowers their beloved spring that has arrived. See! the full-blown lotuses shield the lake, as if to prevent their place of birth from being afflicted by the warmth of the sun’s rays. See! the bees, after resorting to a Karnikára splendid with blossoms, leave it again, finding it destitute of perfume, as good men leave a rich man of mean character. See! a concert is being held in honour of spring, the king of the seasons, with the songs of the Kinnarís, the notes of the cuckoos, and the humming of bees.” With such words those sons of gods shewed Naraváhanadatta the range of their pleasure-grounds. And the son of the king of Vatsa amused himself also in their cities, beholding the merry-makings of the citizens, who danced without restraint in honour of the spring-festival. And he enjoyed with the Apsarases delights fitted for gods; wherever the virtuous go, their good fortunes precede them.
After remaining there for four days thus occupied, Naraváhanadatta said to those sons of gods his friends; “I now wish to go to my own city, being anxious to behold my father;[6] so come you also to that city and bless it with a visit.” When they heard that, they said: “We have seen you, the choicest jewel in that town; what more do we require? But when you have obtained the sciences of the Vidyádharas, you must not forget us.” With these words they dismissed him, and Naraváhanadatta said to Mátali, who brought him the splendid chariot of Indra; “Take me to the city of Kauśámbí by a course leading past that lovely lake, on the bank of which I left Gomukha and the others.” Mátali consented, and the prince ascended the chariot with the Apsarases, and reached that lake, and saw Gomukha and the others, and said to them, “Come quickly by your own way, I will tell you all when I get home.” Having said this, he went to Kauśámbí in the chariot of Indra. There he descended from heaven, and dismissed Mátali after honouring him, and entered his own palace accompanied by those Apsarases. And leaving them there, he went and prostrated himself before the feet of his father, who was delighted at his arrival, and also of Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, and they welcomed him, and their eyes were never satisfied with gazing on him. And in the meanwhile Gomukha came, riding on the chariot, with the charioteer, and that Bráhman Pralambabáhu. Then, being questioned by his father, Naraváhanadatta related in the presence of all his ministers his very wonderful adventures. And all said—“God grants to that virtuous man, whom he wishes to favour, association with good friends.” When all said this, the king was pleased, and ordered a festival for his son on account of the favour which Vishṇu had shewed towards him. And he and his wives saw those Apsarases his daughters-in-law, obtained by the favour of Vishṇu, whom Gomukha brought to fall at his feet, Devarupá, and Devarati, and Devamálá, and the fourth Devapriyá, whose names he enquired by the mouth of their maids. And the city of Kauśámbí, making festival, appeared as if scattering red paint with its waving scarlet banners, as much as to say: “What am I that Apsarases should dwell in me? Blessed am I that the prince Naraváhanadatta has made me a heavenly city upon earth.” And Naraváhanadatta, after he had rejoiced the eyes of his father, visited his other wives, who were anxiously awaiting him, and they, who had been emaciated by those four days, as if they were four years, exulted, relating the various woes of their separation. And Gomukha described the valour of Pralambabáhu, while he was protecting the horses during their sojourn in the forest, in killing lions and other noxious beasts. Thus listening to pleasing unrestrained conversation, and contemplating the beauty of his beloved ones, that was as nectar to his eyes, and making flattering speeches, and drinking wine in the company of his ministers, Naraváhanadatta passed that time there in happiness.
Once on a time, as he was in the apartments of Alankáravatí with his ministers, he heard a loud sound of drums outside. Then he said to his general Hariśikha: “What may be the cause of this sudden great noise of drums outside?” When Hariśikha heard this, he went out, and entering again immediately said to the prince, the son of the king of Vatsa; “There is in this town a merchant of the name of Rudra, and he went to the island of Suvarṇadvípa on a mercantile expedition. As he was returning, the hoard of wealth, that he had managed to acquire, was lost, being sunk in the sea by his ship foundering. And he himself happened to escape from the sea alive. And to-day is the sixth day since he arrived in misery at his own house. After he had been living here for some days in distress, it happened that he found a great treasure in his garden. And the king of Vatsa heard of it from his relations, so the merchant came to-day and represented the matter to the king; saying—‘I have obtained four crores of gold pieces with a multitude of valuable jewels, so, if the king commands me, I will hand them over.’ The king of Vatsa thereupon gave this command to the merchant—‘Who that had any sense,[7] after seeing you in distress, plundered by the sea, would plunder you again, now that you have been supplied with wealth by the mercy of Providence. Go and enjoy at will the wealth obtained from your own ground.’ The merchant fell at the king’s feet full of joy, and it is this very man that is now returning to his house, with his attendants beating drums.” When Hariśikha said this, Naraváhanadatta praised the justice of his father, and said in astonishment to his ministers—“If Destiny sometimes takes away wealth, does she not sometimes afterwards give it. She sports in a strange way with the raising and depressing of men.” When Gomukha heard that, he said—“Such is the course of Destiny! And in proof of this, hear the story of Samudraśúra.”
Story of the merchant Samudraśúra.
In old times there was a splendid city, belonging to the king Harshavarman, called Harshapura, the citizens of which were made happy by good government. In this city there was a great merchant, named Samudraśúra; he was of good family, just, of resolute courage, a lord of much wealth. He was once compelled by his business to go to Suvarṇadvípa, and reaching the shore of the sea, he embarked on a ship. As he was travelling over the sea, when his journey was very nearly at an end, a terrible cloud arose and a wind that agitated the deep. The wind tossed the ship about with the violence of the waves, and it was struck by a sea-monster and split asunder; and then the merchant, girding up his loins, plunged into the sea. And after the brave man had made some way by swimming, he found the corpse of a man long dead, driven hither and thither by the wind. And he climbed up on the corpse, and skilfully paddling himself along with his arms, he was carried to Suvarṇadvípa by a favourable wind. There he got off that corpse on to the sand, and he perceived that it had a cloth tied round its loins, with a knot in it. When he unfastened the cloth from its loins, and examined it, he found inside it a necklace richly studded with jewels. He saw that it was of inestimable value, and he bathed and remained in a state of great felicity, thinking that the wealth he had lost in the sea was but straw in comparison with it. Then he went on to a city called Kalaśapura, and with the bracelet in his hand, entered the enclosure of a great temple. There he sat in the shade, and being exceedingly tired with his exertions in the water, he slowly dropped off to sleep, bewildered by Destiny. And while he was asleep, the policemen came and saw that necklace in his hand exposed to view. They said—“Here is the necklace stolen from the neck of the princess Chakrasená; without doubt this is the thief.” And so they woke the merchant up and took him to the palace. There the king himself questioned him, and he told him what had taken place. The king held out the necklace, and said to the people present in court,—“This man is speaking falsely; he is a thief, look at this necklace.” And at that very moment a kite saw it glittering, and quickly swooping down from heaven, carried off the necklace, and disappeared where he could not be traced. Then the king, in his anger, commanded that the merchant should be put to death, and he, in great grief, invoked the protection of Śiva. Then a voice was heard from heaven—“Do not put this man to death: he is a respectable merchant named Samudraśúra from the city of Harshapura, that has landed on your territory. The thief, who stole the necklace, fled, beside himself with fear of the police, and falling into the sea at night, perished. But this merchant here, when his ship foundered, came upon the body of that thief, and climbing up on it, he crossed the sea and came here. And then he found the necklace in the knot of the cloth fastened round his loins; he did not take it from your house. So let go, king, this virtuous merchant, who is not a thief; dismiss him with honour.” Having said this, the voice ceased. When the king heard this, he was satisfied, and revoking the capital sentence passed on the merchant, he honoured him with wealth, and let him go. And the merchant, having obtained wealth, bought wares, and again crossed the terrible ocean in a ship, in order to return to his own native land.
And after he had crossed the sea, he travelled with a caravan, and one day, at evening time, he reached a wood. The caravan encamped in the wood for the night, and while Samudraśúra was awake, a powerful host of bandits attacked it. While the bandits were massacring the members of the caravan, Samudraśúra left his wares and fled, and climbed up a banyan-tree without being discovered. The host of bandits departed, after they had carried off all the wealth, and the merchant spent that night there, perplexed with fear, and distracted with grief. In the morning he cast his eye towards the top of the tree, and saw, as fate would have it, what looked like the light of a lamp, trembling among the leaves. And in his astonishment he climbed up the tree, and saw a kite’s nest, in which there was a heap of glittering priceless jewelled ornaments. He took them all out of it, and found among the ornaments that necklace, which he had found in Svarṇadvípa and the kite had carried off. He obtained from that nest unlimited wealth, and, descending from the tree, he went off delighted, and reached in course of time his own city of Harshapura. There the merchant Samudraśúra remained, enjoying himself to his heart’s content with his family, free from the desire of any other wealth.
“So you have that merchant’s whelming in the sea, and that loss of his wealth, and the finding of the necklace, and again the losing of it, and his undeserved degradation to the position of a malefactor, and his immediate obtaining of wealth from the satisfied king, and his return-voyage over the sea, and his being stripped of all his wealth by falling in with bandits on the journey, and at last his acquisition of wealth from the top of a tree. So you see, prince, such is the various working of destiny, but a virtuous man, though he may have endured sorrow, obtains joy at the last.” When Naraváhanadatta heard this from Gomukha, he approved it, and rising up, he performed his daily duties, such as bathing and the like.
And the next day, when he was in the hall of assembly, the heroic prince Samaratunga, who had been his servant ever since he was a boy, came and said to him—“Prince, my relation Sangrámarvarsha has ravaged my territory, with the help of his four sons, Vírajita and the others. So I will go myself, and bring them all five here as prisoners. Let my lord know this.” After saying this he departed. And the son of the king of Vatsa, knowing that he had but a small force, and that those others had large forces, ordered his own army to follow him. But that proud man refused to receive this accession to his force, and went and conquered those five enemies in fight by the help of his own two arms only, and brought them back prisoners. Naraváhanadatta honoured and praised his follower, when he came back victorious, and said—“How wonderful! This man has conquered his five enemies, though with their forces they had overrun his territory, and has done the deed of a hero, as a man conquers the senses, when they have laid hold upon outward objects, and are powerful, and so accomplishes emancipation, the work of the soul.”[8] When Gomukha heard that, he said—“If, prince, you have not heard the tale of king Chamarabála, which is similar, listen, I will tell it.”