And Śrídarśana, being introduced by him, beheld the king, who was thin and pale as the new moon. And the king Śrísena observed that Śrídarśana, who bowed before him and sat down, was of a taking appearance, and pleased with his look, he felt comforted, and said to him, “I know that your exertions will certainly put an end to my disease; my body tells me this, for the mere sight of you has quieted its sufferings. So aid the enchanter in this matter.” When the king said this, Śrídarśana said to him “The enterprise is a mere trifle.” Then the king summoned the enchanter and said to him, “This hero will aid you; do what you said.” When that enchanter heard that, he said to Śrídarśana,
“My good sir, if you are able to assist me in raising a Vetála, come to me in the cemetery at night-fall this very day, the fourteenth of the black fortnight.” When the ascetic, who practised magic, had said this, he went away, and Śrídarśana took leave of the king and returned to that asylum.
There he took food with Padmishṭhá and Mukharaka, and at night he went alone, sword in hand, to the cemetery. It was full of many ghosts, empty of men, inauspicious, full of roaring jackals, covered with impenetrable darkness, but shewed in some places a faint gleam where the funeral pyres were.[24] The hero Śrídarśana wandered about in that place of horrors and saw the enchanter in the middle of it. His whole body was smeared with ashes, he had a Bráhmanical thread of hair, he wore a turban made of the clothes of the dead, and he was clad in a black garment. Śrídarśana approached him, and made himself known to him, and then girding up his loins, he said, “Tell me, what shall I do for you?” The enchanter answered in high spirits, “Half a cos only to the west of this place there is an Aśoka tree, the leaves of which are burnt with the hot flame of funeral pyres. At the foot of it there is a corpse, go and bring it here unharmed.”
Then Śrídarśana said, “I will,” and going quickly to the place he saw some one else taking away the corpse. So he ran and tried to drag it from the shoulder of that person, who would not let it go, and said to him,—“Let go this corpse: where are you taking my friend whom I have to burn?” Then that second person said to Śrídarśana, “I will not let the dead man go; I am his friend; what have you to do with him?” While they were dragging the corpse from one another’s shoulders, and making these mutual recriminations, the corpse itself, which was animated by a Vetála, uttered a terrible shriek. That terrified the second person so that his heart broke, and he fell down dead, and then Śrídarśana went off with that corpse in his arms. Then the second man, though dead, rose up, being possessed by a Vetála, and tried to stop Śrídarśana, and said to him, “Halt! do not go off with my friend on your shoulder.” Then Śrídarśana, knowing that his rival was possessed by a Vetála, said to him, “What proof is there that you are his friend? He is my friend.” The rival then said, “The corpse itself shall decide between us.” Then Śrídarśana, said, “Well! let him declare who is his friend.” Then the corpse, that was on his back, being possessed by a Vetála, said, “I am hungry, so I decide that whoever gives me food is my friend; let him take me where he likes.” When the second corpse, that was also possessed by a Vetála, heard this, he answered,—“I have no food; if he has any, let him give you some.” Śrídarśana, hearing this, said, “I will give him food,” and proceeded to strike with his sword at the second corpse, in order to procure food for the Vetála that was on his shoulder.[25] But that second corpse, which was also possessed by a Vetála, the moment he began to strike it, disappeared by its supernatural power.
Then the Vetála, that was on Śrídarśana’s shoulder, said to him, “Now give me the food that you promised me.” So Śrídarśana, not being able to obtain any other flesh to give him to eat, cut off with his sword some of his own flesh, and gave it to him. This pleased the Vetála, and he said to him, “I am satisfied with you, brave man, let your body be restored whole as before. Now take me off; this enterprise of yours shall succeed, but that ascetic enchanter shall be destroyed, for he is a great coward.” When Śrídarśana was thus addressed by the Vetála, he immediately became whole as before, and taking the corpse he handed it to that magician. And he received it joyfully, and honoured it with unguents and garlands of blood, and he placed the corpse, possessed by the Vetála, on its back in a great circle marked out with powdered human bones, in the corners of which were placed pitchers of blood, and which was lighted up with lamps fed by oil from the human body. And he sat on the breast of the corpse, and holding in his hand a ladle and spoon of human bone, he began to make an oblation of clarified butter in its mouth. Immediately such a flame issued from the mouth of that corpse possessed by the Vetála, that the sorcerer rose up in terror and fled. When he thus lost his presence of mind, and dropped his spoon and ladle; the Vetála pursued him, and opening his mouth swallowed him whole.[26]
When Śrídarśana saw that, he lifted up his sword and attacked the Vetála, but the Vetála said to him, “Śrídarśana, I am pleased with this courage of yours, so take these mustard-seeds produced in my mouth. If you place these on the head and hands of the king, the malady of consumption will immediately leave him, and you in a short time will become the king of the whole earth.” When Śrídarśana heard this, he said, “How can I leave this place without that sorcerer? The king is sure to say that I killed him out of a selfish regard to my own interests.” When Śrídarśana said this to the Vetála, he answered, “I will tell you a convincing proof, which will clear you. Cut open the body of this corpse, and shew inside it this sorcerer dead, whom I have swallowed.” When the Vetála had said this, he gave him the mustard-seeds, and went off somewhere or other, leaving that corpse, and the corpse fell on the ground.
Then Śrídarśana went off, taking with him the mustard-seeds, and he spent that night in the asylum in which his friend was. And the next morning he went to the king, and told him what had happened in the night, and took and shewed to the ministers that sorcerer in the stomach of the corpse. Then he placed the mustard-seeds on the head and the hand of the king, and that made the king quite well, as all his sickness at once left him. Then the king was pleased, and, as he had no son, he adopted as his son Śrídarśana, who had saved his life. And he immediately anointed that hero crown-prince; for the seed of benefits, sown in good soil, produces abundant fruit. Then the fortunate Śrídarśana married there that Padmishṭhá, who seemed like the goddess of Fortune that had come to him in reward for his former courting of her, and the hero remained there in the company of her brother Mukharaka, enjoying pleasures and ruling the earth.
One day a great merchant, named Upendraśakti, found an image of Gaṇeśa, carved out of a jewel, on the border of a tank, and brought it and gave it to that prince. The prince, seeing that it was of priceless value, out of his fervent piety, set it up in a very splendid manner in a temple. And he appointed a thousand villages there for the permanent support of the temple, and he ordained in honour of the idol a festive procession, at which all Málava assembled. And Gaṇeśa, being pleased with the numerous dances, songs, and instrumental performances in his honour, said to the Gaṇas at night, “By my favour this Śrídarśana shall be a universal emperor on the earth. Now there is an island named Hansadvípa in the western sea; and in it is a king named Anangodaya, and he has a lovely daughter named Anangamanjarí. And that daughter of his, being devoted to me, always offers to me this petition after she has worshipped me, “Holy one, give me a husband who shall be the lord of the whole earth.” So I will marry her to this Śrídarśana, and thus I shall have bestowed on both the meet reward of their devotion to me. So you must take Śrídarśana there, and after you have contrived that they should see one another, bring him back quickly; and in course of time they shall be united in due form; but it cannot be done immediately, for such is the will of destiny. Moreover I have determined by these means to recompense Upendraśakti, the merchant, who brought my image to the prince.”
The Gaṇas, having received this order from Gaṇeśa, took Śrídarśana that very night, while he was asleep, and carried him to Hansadvípa by their supernatural power. And there they introduced him into the chamber of Anangamanjarí, and placed him on the bed on which that princess was lying asleep. Śrídarśana immediately woke up, and saw Anangamanjarí. She was reclining on a bed covered with a coverlet of pure white woven silk, in a splendid chamber in which flashed jewel-lamps, and which was illuminated by the numerous priceless gems of the canopy and other furniture, and the floor of which was dark with the rájávarta stone. As she lay there pouring forth rays of beauty like the lovely effluence of a stream of nectar, she seemed like the orb of the autumn moon lapped in a fragment of a white cloud, in a sky adorned with a host of bright twinkling stars, gladdening the eyes. Immediately he was delighted, astonished, and bewildered, and he said to himself, “I went to sleep at home and I have woke up in a very different place. What does all this mean? Who is this woman? Surely it is a dream! Very well, let it be so. But I will wake up this lady and find out.” After these reflections he gently nudged Anangamanjarí on the shoulder with his hand. And the touch of his hand made her immediately awake and roll her eyes, as the kumudvatí opens under the rays of the moon, and the bees begin to circle in its cup. When she saw him, she reflected for a moment, “Who can this being of celestial appearance be? Surely he must be some god that has penetrated into this well-guarded room?” So she rose up, and asked him earnestly and respectfully who he was, and how and why he had entered there. Then he told his story, and the fair one, when questioned by him, told him in turn her country, name, and descent. Then they both fell in love with one another, and each ceased to believe that the other was an object seen in a dream, and in order to make certain, they exchanged ornaments.
Then they both became eager for the Gándharva form of marriage, but the Gaṇas stupefied them, and laid them to sleep. And, as soon as Śrídarśana fell asleep, they took him and carried him back to his own palace, cheated by Destiny of his desire. Then Śrídarśana woke up in his own palace, and seeing himself decked with the ornaments of a lady, he thought, “What does this mean? At one moment I am in that heavenly palace with the daughter of the king of Hansadvípa, at another moment I am here. It cannot be a dream, for here are these ornaments of hers on my wrist, so it must be some strange freak of Destiny.” While he was engaged in these speculations, his wife Padmishṭhá woke up, and questioned him, and the kind woman comforted him, and so he passed the night. And the next morning he told the whole story to Śrísena, before whom he appeared wearing the ornaments marked with the name of Anangamanjarí. And the king, wishing to please him, had a proclamation made by beat of drum, to find out where Hansadvípa was, but could not find out from any one the road to that country. Then Śrídarśana, separated from Anangamanjarí, remained overpowered by the fever of love, averse to all enjoyment. He could not like his food while he gazed on her ornaments, necklace and all, and he abandoned sleep, having ceased to behold within reach the lotus of her face.[27]