And that young prince had ten ministers of his own, Prachaṇḍaśakti and Sthúlabáhu, and Vikramakeśarin, Dṛiḍhamushṭi, and Meghabala and Bhímaparákrama, and Vimalabuddhi, and Vyághrasena and Guṇákara, and the tenth Vichitrakatha. They were all of good birth, young, brave, and wise, and devoted to their master’s interests. And Mṛigánkadatta led a happy life with them in his father’s house, but he did not obtain a suitable wife.
And one day his minister Bhímaparákrama said to him in secret,—“Hear, prince, what happened to me in the night. I went to sleep last night on the roof of the palace, and I saw in a dream a lion, with claws terrible as the thunderbolt, rushing upon me. I rose up, sword in hand, and then the lion began to flee, and I pursued him at my utmost speed. He crossed a river, and stuck out his long tongue[5] at me, and I cut it off with my sword. And I made use of it to cross that river, for it was as broad as a bridge. And thereupon the lion became a deformed giant. I asked him who he was and the giant said, ‘I am a Vetála, and I am delighted with your courage, my brave fellow.’ Then I said to him, ‘If this is the case, then tell me who is to be the wife of my master Mṛigánkadatta.’ When I said this to the Vetála, he answered,—‘There is in Ujjayiní a king named Karmasena. He has a daughter, who in beauty surpasses the Apsarases, being, as it were, the receptacle of the Creator’s handiwork in the form of loveliness. Her name is Śaśánkavatí, and she shall be his wife, and by gaining her, he shall become king of the whole earth.’ When the Vetála had said this, he disappeared, and I came home; this is what happened to me in the night, my sovereign.”
When Mṛigánkadatta heard this from Bhímaparákrama, he summoned all his ministers, and had it told to them, and then he said, “Hear, what I too saw in a dream; I thought we all entered a certain wood; and in it, being thirsty with travelling, we reached with difficulty some water; and when we wished to drink it, five armed men rose up and tried to prevent us. We killed them, and then in the torments of our thirst we again turned to drink the water, but lo! neither the men nor the water were to be seen. Then we were in a miserable state; but on a sudden we saw the god Śiva come there, mounted on his bull, resplendent with the moon on his forehead; we bent before him in prayer and he dropped from his right eye a tear-drop on the ground. That became a sea, and I drew from it a splendid pearl-necklace and fastened it round my neck. And I drank up that sea in a human skull stained with blood. And immediately I awoke, and lo! the night was at an end.”
When Mṛigánkadatta had described this wonderful sight that he had seen in his dream, the other ministers rejoiced, but Vimalabuddhi said; “You are fortunate, prince, in that Śiva has shewn you this favour. As you obtained the necklace and drank up the sea, you shall without fail obtain Śaśánkavatí and rule the whole earth. But the rest of the dream indicates some slight amount of misfortune.” When Vimalabuddhi had said this, Mṛigánkadatta again said to his ministers, “Although the fulfilment of my dream will no doubt come to pass in the way which my friend Bhímaparákrama heard predicted by the Vetála, still I must win from that Karmasena, who confides in his army and his forts, his daughter Śaśánkavatí by force of policy. And the force of policy is the best instrument in all undertakings. Now listen, I will tell you a story to prove this.”
Story of king Bhadrabáhu and his clever minister.
There was a king in Magadha, named Bhadrabáhu. He had a minister named Mantragupta, most sagacious of men. That king once said of his own accord to that minister; “The king of Váráṇasí, named Dharmagopa, has a daughter named Anangalílá, the chief beauty of the three worlds. I have often asked for her in marriage, but out of hostility that king will not give her to me. And he is a formidable foe, on account of his possessing an elephant named Bhadradanta. Still I cannot bear to live any longer without that daughter of his. So I have no measure which I can adopt in this business. Tell me, my friend, what I am to do.” When the king said this, his minister answered him; “Why, king, do you suppose that courage and not policy ensures success? Dismiss your anxiety; I will manage the matter for you by my own ingenuity.”
So, the next day, the minister set out for Váráṇasí, disguised as a Páśupata ascetic, and he took six or seven companions with him, who were disguised as his pupils, and they told all the people, who came together from all quarters to adore him, that he possessed supernatural powers. Then, as he was roaming about one night to find out some means of accomplishing his object, he saw in the distance the wife of the keeper of the elephants leave her house, going along quickly through fear, escorted in some direction or other by three or four armed men. He at once said to himself, “Surely this lady is eloping somewhere, so I will see where she is going.” So he followed her with his attendants. And he observed from a distance the house into which she went, and then he returned to his own lodging. And the next day, as the elephant-keeper was wandering about in search of his wife, who had gone off with his wealth, the minister contrived to send his own followers to meet him. They found that he had just swallowed poison because he could not find his wife, and they counteracted by their knowledge the effect of the poison, pretending that they did it out of pure compassion. And they said to him; “Come to our teacher, for he is a seer and knows every thing:” and so they brought him to the minister. And the elephant-keeper fell at the feet of the minister, who was rendered more majestic by the insignia of his vow, and asked him for news of his wife. The minister pretended to meditate, and after a time told him the place where she was taken by the strange men at night, with all the signs by which he might recognise it. Then the elephant-keeper bowed again before him, and went with a host of policemen and surrounded that place. And he killed those wicked men who had carried off his wife, and recovered her, together with her ornaments and his wealth.
And the next day he went and bowed before, and praised that supposed seer, and invited him to an entertainment. And as the minister did not wish to enter a house, and said that he must eat at night, he made an entertainment for him at nightfall in the elephant-stables. So the minister went there and feasted with his followers, taking with him a concealed serpent, that he had by means of a charm got to enter the hollow of a bamboo. Then the elephant-keeper went away, and while the others were asleep, the minister introduced, by means of the bamboo, the serpent into the ear of the elephant Bhadradanta, while it was asleep, and he spent the night there, and in the morning went back to Magadha his native land; but the elephant died from the bite of the snake.
When the clever minister returned, having smitten down the elephant as if it were the pride of that king Dharmagopa, the king Bhadrabáhu was in ecstasies. Then he sent off an ambassador to Váráṇasí to ask for the hand of Anangalílá. The king, who was helpless from the loss of his elephant, gave her to him; for kings, who know times and seasons, bend like canes, if it is expedient to do so.