Chapter LVI.
Then the prince Naraváhanadatta, with his beloved by his side, being much pleased at the tale of Gomukha, but seeing that Marubhúti was quite put out, in order to pay him a compliment, said to him, attempting to conciliate him; “Marubhúti, why do you not tell a tale also?” Then he said, “Well, I will tell one,” and with pleased soul began to relate the following story.
Story of the Bráhman Chandrasvámin, his son Mahípála, and his daughter Chandravatí.
There once lived in a town called Devakamalapura, belonging to the king Kamalavarman, an excellent Bráhman, named Chandrasvámin. And that wise man had a wife like himself, distinguished for modesty, and she was a worthy match for Sarasvatí and Lakshmí. And to that Bráhman was born a son with auspicious marks, and when he was born, this voice was heard from heaven:
“Chandrasvámin, you must call your son Mahípála,[1] because he shall be a king and long protect the earth.” When Chandrasvámin heard this, he made a feast and called that son Mahípála. And in course of time Mahípála grew up, and was taught the science of missile and hand to hand weapons, and was at the same time instructed in all knowledge. And in the meanwhile his wife Devamati brought forth to Chandrasvámin another child, a daughter, beautiful in all her limbs. And the brother and sister, Mahípála and Chandravatí, grew up together in their father’s house.
Then a famine, caused by want of rain, sprang up in that country, the corn having been scorched up by the rays of the sun. And owing to that, the king began to play the bandit, leaving the right path, and taking wealth from his subjects unlawfully. Then, as that land was going rapidly to ruin, Chandrasvámin’s wife said to her husband: “Come to my father’s house, let us leave this city, for our children will perish here some day or other.” When Chandrasvámin heard this, he said to his wife—“By no means, for flight from one’s own country in time of famine is a great sin. So I will take these children and deposit them in your father’s house, and do you remain here; I will return soon. She agreed, and then Chandrasvámin left her in his house, and taking those two children, the boy Mahípála and the girl Chandravatí, set out from that city for his father-in-law’s house. And in course of time, as he roamed on, he reached a great wilderness, with sands heated by the rays of the sun, and with but a few parched up trees in it. And there he left his two children, who were exhausted with thirst, and went to a great distance to look for water for them. Then there met him a chief of the Śavaras, named Sinhadanshṭra, with his followers, going somewhere or other for his own ends. The Bhilla saw him and questioned him, and finding out that he was in search of water, said to his followers, “Take him to some water,” at the same time making a sign to them. When they heard it, two or three of the Śavara king’s followers, perceiving his intention, took the innocent Chandrasvámin to the village, and fettered him. And he, learning from them that he was fettered in order to be offered as a victim, lamented for his two children that he had left in the wild:
“Ah Mahípála! Ah dear Chandravatí! why did I foolishly abandon you in the wilderness and make you the prey of lions and tigers? And I have brought myself also into a position where I am sure to be slain by bandits, and there is no escape for me.” While he was thus lamenting in his terror, he saw to his delight the sun. And exclaiming, “Ah! I will fling aside bewilderment and fly for refuge to my own lord,” the Bráhman began to praise the sun in the following verses—“Hail to thee, O Lord, the brightness residing in the near and in the remote ether, that dispersest the internal and external darkness. Thou art Vishṇu pervading the three worlds, thou art Śiva the treasure-house of blessings, thou art the supreme lord of creatures, calling into activity the sleeping Universe. Thou deposest thy brightness in fire and in the moon, out of pity, as it were, saying, ‘Let these two dull things shine,’ and so thou dispellest the night. When thou risest, the Rákshasas disperse, the Dasyus have no power, and the virtuous rejoice.[2] So, thou matchless illuminator of the three worlds, deliver me, who take refuge with thee. Disperse this darkness of my grief, have mercy upon me.” When the Bráhman had devoutly praised the sun with these and other similar hymns, a voice was heard from heaven—“Chandrasvámin, I am pleased with thee, thou shalt not be put to death, and by my favour thou shalt be reunited with thy wife and children.” When the divine voice had said this to Chandrasvámin, he recovered his spirits, and remained in a state of tranquillity, being supplied with bathing requisites and food by the Śavaras.
And in the meanwhile the boy Mahípála, left in the wilderness with his sister, as his father did not return, remained lamenting bitterly, supposing that some calamity had befallen him. And in this state he was beheld by a great merchant, of the name of Sárthadhara, who came that way, and the merchant asked him what had happened to him. And feeling compassion, he consoled the boy, and observing that he had auspicious marks, he took him and his sister to his own country. There that Mahípála lived in the house of that merchant, who looked upon him with all the affection of a father for his son; and though a boy, he was occupied in the rites of the sacred fire.