And the next morning he worshipped Kálarátri, and marched thence to engage Dhúmaśikha, who had barred his further advance with an army of Vidyádharas. Then the emperor had a fight with that king, who was the principal champion of Mandaradeva, of such a desperate character, that the air was full of swords, the earth covered with the heads of warriors, and the only speech heard was the terrible cry of heroes shouting, “Slay! slay!” Then the emperor took Dhúmaśikha captive in that battle by force, and afterwards treated him with deference; and made him submit to his sway. And he quartered his army that night in his city, and the host seemed like fuel consumed with fire, as it had seen the extinction of Dhúmaśikha’s[9] pride.
And the next day, hearing from the scouts that Mandaradeva, having found out what had taken place, was advancing to meet him in fight, Naraváhanadatta marched out against him with the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, determined to conquer him. And after he had gone some distance, he beheld in front of him the army of Mandaradeva, accompanied by many kings, attacking in order of battle. Then Naraváhanadatta, with the allied kings at his side, drew up his forces in an arrangement fitted to encounter the formation of his enemies, and fell upon his army.
Then a battle took place between those two armies, which imitated the disturbed flood of the ocean overflowing its banks at the day of doom. On one side were fighting Chaṇḍasinha and other great champions, and on the other Kánchanadanshṭra and other mighty kings. And the battle waxed sore, resembling the rising of the wind at the day of doom, for it made the three worlds tremble, and shook the mountains. Mount Kailása, red on one side with the blood of heroes, as with saffron paint, and on the other of ashy whiteness, resembled the husband of Gaurí. That great battle was truly the day of doom for heroes, being grimly illuminated by innumerable orbs of the sun arisen in flashing sword-blades. Such was the battle that even Nárada and other heavenly beings, who came to gaze at it, were astonished, though they had witnessed the fights between the gods and the Asuras.
In this fight, which was thus terrible, Kánchanadanshṭra rushed on Chaṇḍasinha, and smote him on the head with a formidable mace. When Dhanavatí saw that her son had fallen under the stroke of the mace, she cursed and paralysed both armies by means of her magic power. And Naraváhanadatta on one side, in virtue of his imperial might,[10] and on the other side, Mandaradeva were the only two that remained conscious. Then even the gods in the air fled in all directions, seeing that Dhanavatí, if angry, had power to destroy a world.
But Mandaradeva, seeing that the emperor Naraváhanadatta was left alone, ran upon him with uplifted weapon. Naraváhanadatta, for his part, descended from his chariot, and drawing the sword which was one of his imperial jewels, quickly met him. Then Mandaradeva, wishing to gain the victory by magic arts, assumed by his science the form of a furious elephant maddened with passion. When Naraváhanadatta, who was endowed with pre-eminent skill in magic, saw this, he assumed by his supernatural power the form of a lion. Then Mandaradeva flung off the body of an elephant, and Naraváhanadatta abandoned that of a lion, and fought with him openly in his own shape.[11] Armed with sabres, and skilled in every elaborate trick and attitude of fence, they appeared like two actors skilled in gesticulation, engaged in acting a pantomime. Then Naraváhanadatta by a dexterous sleight forced from the grasp of Mandaradeva his sword the material symbol of victory. And Mandaradeva, having been thus deprived of his sword, drew his dagger, but the emperor quickly made him relinquish that in the same way. Then Mandaradeva, being disarmed, began to wrestle with the emperor, but he seized him by the ancles, and laid him on the earth.
And then the sovereign set his foot on his enemy’s breast, and laying hold of his hair, was preparing to cut off his head with his sword, when the maiden Mandaradeví, the sister of Mandaradeva, rushed up to him, and in order to prevent him, said, “When I saw you long ago in the wood of ascetics, I marked you for my future husband, so do not, my sovereign, kill this brother of mine, who is your brother-in-law.” When the resolute king had been thus addressed by that fair-eyed one, he let go Mandaradeva, who was ashamed at having been conquered, and said to him, “I set you at liberty; do not be ashamed on that account, Vidyádhara chief; victory and defeat in war bestow themselves on heroes with varying caprice.” When the king said this, Mandaradeva answered him, “Of what profit is my life to me, now that I have been saved in war by a woman? So I will go to my father in the wood where he is, and perform asceticism; you have been appointed emperor over both divisions of our territory here. Indeed this occurrence was foretold long ago to me by my father as sure to take place.” When the proud hero had said this, he repaired to his father in the grove of ascetics.
Then the gods, that were present in the air on that occasion, exclaimed, “Bravo! great emperor, you have completely conquered your enemies, and obtained sovereign sway.” When Mandaradeva had gone, Dhanavatí by her power restored her own son and both armies with him to consciousness. So Naraváhanadatta’s followers, ministers and all, arose as it were from sleep, and finding out that the foe had been conquered, congratulated Naraváhanadatta their victorious master. And the kings of Mandaradeva’s party, Kánchanadanshṭra, Aśokaka, Raktáksha, Kálajihva and the others, submitted to the sway of Naraváhanadatta. And Chaṇḍasinha, when he saw Kánchanadanshṭra, remembered the blow of the mace, which he received from him in fight, and was wroth with him, brandishing his good sword firmly grasped in his strong hand. But Dhanavatí said to him, “Enough of wrath, my beloved son! Who could conquer you in the van of battle? But I myself produced that momentary glamour, in order to prevent the destruction of both armies.” With these words she pacified her son and made him cease from wrath, and she delighted the whole army and the emperor Naraváhanadatta[12] by her magic skill. And Naraváhanadatta was exceedingly joyful, having obtained the sovereignty of the north side of Kailása, the mountain of Śiva, a territory now free from the scourge of war, since the heroes, who opposed him, had been conquered, or had submitted, or fled, and that too with all his friends unharmed. Then shrill kettle-drums were beaten for the great festival of his victory over his enemies,[13] and the triumphant monarch, accompanied by his wives and ministers, and girt with mighty kings, spent that day, which was honoured by the splendid dances and songs of the Vidyádhara ladies, in drinking wine, as it were the fiery valour of his enemies.
[1] The Sanskrit College MS. has Ratyá.
[2] The seven jewels of the Chakravartin are often mentioned in Buddhist works. In the Mahávastu, p. 108 (Ed. Senart) they are, chariot, elephant, horse, wife, householder, general. In a legend quoted by Burnouf (Introduction a l’Histoire du Buddhisme Indien, p. 343) the same six are enumerated as “les sept joyaux.” In both cases the sword is omitted. They are also described in the Mahá-Sudassana-Sutta translated by Rhys Davids in the eleventh volume of the Sacred Books of the East Series.