When Śanvarasiddhi had told this story, which tallied so well with the king’s own dream, the king was pleased at knowing the certainty of the matter, and Bhadráyudha said to him, “The business is as good as effected, for that king and his country own your paramount supremacy. So let us go there before the sixth month has passed away.” When the warder had said this, king Vikramáditya made him inform Śanvarasiddhi of all the circumstances connected with the matter, and honoured him with a present of much wealth, and bade him shew him the way, and then he seemed to bequeath his own burning heat to the rays of the sun, his paleness to the clouds, and his thinness to the waters of the rivers,[12] and having become free from sorrow, set out at once, escorted by a small force, for the dwelling-place of his beloved.
In course of time, as he advanced, he crossed the sea, and reached that city, and there he saw the people in front of it engaged in loud lamentation, and when he questioned them, he received this answer, “The princess Malayavatí here, as the period of six months is at an end, and she has not obtained her beloved, is preparing to enter the fire.” Then the king went to the place where the pyre had been made ready.
“When the people saw him, they made way for him, and then the princess beheld that unexpected nectar-rain to her eyes. And she said to her ladies-in-waiting, “Here is that beloved come who married me in a dream, so tell my father quickly.” They went and told this to her father, and then that king, delivered from his grief, and filled with joy, submissively approached the sovereign. At that moment the bard Śanvarasiddhi, who knew his time, lifted up his arm, and chanted aloud this strain, “Hail thou that with the flame of thy valour hast consumed the forest of the army of demons and Mlechchhas! Hail king, lord of the seven-sea-girt earth-bride! Hail thou that hast imposed thy exceedingly heavy yoke on the bowed heads of all kings, conquered by thee! Hail, Vishamaśíla, hail Vikramáditya, ocean of valour!”
When the bard said this, king Malayasinha knew that it was Vikramáditya himself that had come, and embraced his feet.[13] And after he had welcomed him, he entered his palace with him, and his daughter Malayavatí, thus delivered from death. And that king gave that daughter of his to king Vikramáditya, thinking himself fortunate in having obtained such a son-in-law. And king Vikramáditya, when he saw in his arms, in flesh and blood, that Malayavatí, whom he had previously seen in a picture and in a dream, considered it a wonderful fruit of the wishing-tree of Śiva’s favour. Then Vikramáditya took with him his wife Malayavatí, like an incarnation of bliss, and crossed the sea resembling his long regretful[14] separation, and being submissively waited upon at every step by kings, with various presents in their hands, returned to his own city Ujjayiní. And on beholding there that might of his, that satisfied[15] freely every kind of curiosity, what people were not astonished, what people did not rejoice, what people did not make high festival?
[1] Dr. Kern would read sammánitaviśṛishṭeshu; and this is the reading of the Taylor MS. and of the Sanskrit College MS. No. 3003 has sammánitair.
[2] For falling in love with a lady seen in a dream see Vol. I, pp. 276, and 576, and Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, pp. 45, 46 and 49. For falling in love with a lady seen in a picture see Vol. I, p. 490, Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 49, and Coelho’s Contos Portuguezes, p. 109.
[3] I read aratimán for ratimán in the Sanskrit College MS. The Taylor MS. has sarvatránratimán; the other agrees with Brockhaus.
[4] I read praveśyaiva.
[5] Compare Ralston’s Russian Folk Tales, p. 97; in Waldau’s Böhmische Märchen p. 444, there is a beautiful Amazon who fights with the prince on condition that if he is victorious she is to be his prisoner, but if she is victorious, he is to be put to death. Rohde in Der Griechische Roman, p. 148, gives a long list of “coy huntress maids.” Spenser’s Radigund bears a close resemblance to Malayavatí.