When the ascetic had said this, Sundarasena, being full of curiosity, called her to him, and bent before her and propitiated her. And being anxious to question her, he sent her under the care of his servants to rest in the house of his minister Vikramaśakti. Then the prince went off, and after he had enjoyed the sport of hunting, he returned to his palace, and said his daily prayers, and took his food, and then he sent for the ascetic, and put the following question to her, “Reverend mother, who is this maiden named Mandáravatí, that you spoke of to-day? Tell me, for I feel great curiosity about her.”
When the ascetic heard this, she said to him, “Listen, I will tell you the whole story. I am in the habit of wandering about the whole of this earth and the islands, for the sake of visiting sacred bathing-places and other holy spots. And in the course of my travels I happened to visit Hansadvípa. There I saw the daughter of king Mandáradeva, a suitable match for the sons of gods, not to be beheld by those who have done evil works; she bears the name of Mandáravatí, and has a form as charming as the presiding goddess of the garden of the gods; the sight of her kindles love, and she seems like another moon all composed of nectar, created by the Disposer. There is no other beauty on the earth equal to hers;[11] only you, prince, I think, emulate her wealth of loveliness. As for those who have not seen her, their eyes are useless, and they have been born in vain.”
When the prince heard this from the mouth of the female ascetic, he said, “Mother, how are we to get a sight of her beauty, which is so surpassing?” When the female ascetic heard this speech of his, she said, “I took such interest in her on that occasion that I painted a picture of her on canvas; and I have it with me in a bag; if you feel any curiosity about it, look at it.” When she had said this, she took the picture of the lady out of the bag, and shewed it to the gratified prince. And Sundarasena, when he beheld that maiden, who, though she was present there only in a picture, seemed to be of romantic beauty, and like a flowing forth of joy, immediately felt his limbs covered all over with hairs erect from horripilation, as if he had been pierced with the dense arrows of the god of the flowery bow.[12] He remained motionless, hearing nothing, speaking nothing, seeing nothing; and with his whole heart fixed on her, was for a long time as if painted in a picture.
When the prince’s ministers saw that, they said to that female ascetic, “Reverend mother, paint prince Sundarasena on this piece of canvas, and let us have a specimen of your skill in catching likenesses.” The moment she heard that, she painted the prince on canvas. And when they saw that it was a striking likeness, all, who were present there, said, “The reverend lady’s likenesses exactly resemble the originals, for when one looks at this picture, one thinks that one sees the prince himself; so the beauty of the princess Mandáravatí is sure to be such as it is represented in the picture.”
When the ministers had said this, prince Sundarasena took the two pictures, and being pleased, honoured that female ascetic. And he dismissed with appropriate honours that dweller in a lonely spot. And he entered the inner part of the palace, carrying with him the picture of his beloved. He flung himself on a bed and said to himself “Can this be my charmer’s face, or a moon that has purged away the spot that defiles its beauty?”[13] In this way he remained examining Mandáravatí, limb by limb, though he had only her painted form before him: and in this state he continued every day, abstaining from meat and drink; and so in the course of a few days he was completely exhausted by the pain of love’s fever.
When his parents, Śaśiprabhá and Mahásena, found that out, they came of their own accord and asked his friends the cause of his indisposition. And his companions told them the whole story, as it had happened, how the daughter of the king of Hansadvípa had come to be the cause of his complaint. Then Mahásena said to Sundarasena, “My son, why do you so improperly conceal this attachment of yours? For Mandáravatí is a pearl of maidens, and she will be a good match for you. Besides, her father Mandáradeva is a great friend of mine. So why do you torment yourself about a matter of this kind, which is quite becoming, and can be easily arranged by an ambassador?” When king Mahásena had said this, he deliberated, and sent off an ambassador named Surathadeva to Hansadvípa, to ask for the daughter of king Mandáradeva. And he put into his hand the portrait of Sundarasena, executed on canvas by that female ascetic, which shewed how wonderfully handsome he was.
The ambassador travelled quickly, and reached the city of king Mahendráditya on the shore of the sea, named Śaśánkapura. There he embarked on a ship, and after some days he reached the palace of king Mandáradeva in Hansadvípa. He was announced by the wardens and entered the palace, and saw that king, and after he had in due form delivered to him the present, he said to him, “Great monarch, king Mahásena sends you this message, ‘Give your daughter to my son Sundarasena; for a female ascetic, of the name of Kátyáyaní, made a portrait of her, and brought it here, and shewed it to my son, as the picture of a pearl of maidens. And as Sundarasena’s beauty so nearly resembled hers, I felt a desire to have his form painted on canvas also, and herewith I send the picture. Look at it. Moreover, my son, who is of such astonishing beauty, does not wish to be married, unless he can find a wife that resembles him, and nobody but your daughter is a match for him in appearance.’ This is the message the king entrusted to me, when he put this portrait into my hand; look at it, king, let the spring-flower creeper be united to the spring.”
When the king heard this speech of the ambassador’s, he was delighted, and he sent for his daughter Mandáravatí and the queen her mother. And in their company he opened and looked at that portrait, and immediately he ceased to cherish the proud thought, that there was no fitting match for his daughter on the earth. And he said, “My daughter’s beauty will not have been created in vain, if she is united to this prince. She does not look her best without him, nor is he complete without her; what is the lotus-bed without the swan, and what is the swan without the lotus-bed?”
When the king said this, and the queen expressed her complete approbation of it, Mandáravatí suddenly became bewildered with love. She remained with her wide expanded eyes immoveably fixed on the picture, as if possessed, as if asleep, (though she was wide awake,) as if herself a painting. Then Mandáradeva, seeing his daughter in that state, consented to give her in marriage, and he honoured that ambassador.
And on the next day the king sent off his counter-ambassador, who was a Bráhman named Kumáradatta, to king Mahásena. And he said to the two ambassadors, “Go quickly to that king Mahásena, the lord of Alaká, and say to him from me, ‘I give you my daughter out of friendship; so tell me, will your son come here, or shall I send my daughter to you?’” When the two ambassadors had received this message from the king, they immediately started off together on the sea in a ship; and they reached Śaśánkapura, and thence they travelled by land, and reached that opulent city of Alaká, which seemed like the original Alaká.[14] They went to the king’s palace, and entered it with the usual courtesies, and saw king Mahásena who welcomed them. And they told that king the answer which Mandáradeva entrusted to them; and when the king heard it, he was pleased, and shewed both of them great honour.