In course of time the king of Vatsa became faithless, and secretly loved an attendant of the harem named Virachitá, with whom he had previously had an intrigue. One day he made a mistake and addressed the queen by her name, thereupon he had to conciliate her by clinging to her feet, and bathed in her tears he was anointed[9] a fortunate king. Moreover he married a princess of the name of Bandhumatí, whom Gopálaka had captured by the might of his arm, and sent as a present to the queen; and whom she concealed, changing her name to Manjuliká; who seemed like another Lakshmí issuing from the sea of beauty. Her the king saw, when he was in the company of Vasantaka, and secretly married her by the Gándharva ceremony in a summer-house. And that proceeding of his was beheld by Vásavadattá, who was in concealment, and she was angry, and had Vasantaka put in fetters. Then the king had recourse to the good offices of a female ascetic, a friend of the queen’s, who had come with her from her father’s court, of the name of Sánkrityánaní. She appeased the queen’s anger, and got Bandhumatí presented to the king by the obedient queen, for tender is the heart of virtuous wives. Then the queen released Vasantaka from imprisonment; he came into the presence of the queen and said to her with a laugh, “Bandhumatí did you an injury, but what did I do to you? You are angry with adders[10] and you kill water-snakes.” Then the queen, out of curiosity, asked him to explain that metaphor, and he continued as follows:
Story of Ruru.
Once on a time a hermit’s son of the name of Ruru, wandering about at will, saw a maiden of wonderful beauty, the daughter of a heavenly nymph named Menaká by a Vidyádhara, and brought up by a hermit of the name of Sthúlakeśa in his hermitage. That lady, whose name was Prishaḍvará, so captivated the mind of that Ruru when he saw her, that he went and begged the hermit to give her to him in marriage. Sthúlakeśa for his part betrothed the maiden to him, and when the wedding was nigh at hand, suddenly an adder bit her. Then the heart of Ruru was full of despair, but he heard this voice in the heaven—“O Bráhman raise to life with the gift of half thy own life,[11] this maiden, whose allotted term is at an end.” When he heard that, Ruru gave her the half of his own life, as he had been directed; by means of that she revived, and Ruru married her. Thenceforward he was incensed with the whole race of serpents, and whenever he saw a serpent he killed it, thinking to himself as he killed each one—“This may have bitten my wife.” One day a water snake said to him with human voice, as he was about to slay it, “You are incensed against adders, Bráhman, but why do you slay water-snakes? An adder bit your wife, and adders are a distinct species from water-snakes; all adders are venomous, water-snakes are not venomous.” When he heard that, he said in answer to the water-snake,—“My friend, who are you?” The water-snake said, “Bráhman, I am a hermit fallen from my high estate by a curse, and this curse was appointed to last till I held converse with you.” When he had said this he disappeared, and after that Ruru did not kill water-snakes. So I said this to you metaphorically, “My queen, you are angry with adders and you kill water-snakes.” When he had uttered this speech, full of pleasing wit, Vasantaka ceased, and Vásavadattá sitting at the side of her husband was pleased with him. Such soft and sweet tales in which Vasantaka displayed various ingenuity, did the loving Udayana, king of Vatsa, continually make use of to conciliate his angry wife, while he sat at her feet. That happy king’s tongue was ever exclusively employed in tasting the flavour of wine, and his ear was ever delighting in the sweet sounds of the lute, and his eye was ever riveted on the face of his beloved.
Note to Chapter XIV.
The practice of walking round an object of reverence with the right hand towards it, which is one of the ceremonies mentioned in our author’s account of Vásavadattá’s marriage, has been exhaustively discussed by Dr. Samuel Fergusson in his paper—“On the Ceremonial turn called Desiul,” published in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy for March 1877. (Vol. I. Ser. II. No. 12.) He shews it to have existed among the ancient Romans as well as the Celts. One of the most striking of his quotations is from the Curculio of Plautus (I. 1. 69.) Phædromus says—Quo me vortam nescio. Palinurus jestingly replies—Si deos salutas dextrovorsum censeo. Cp. also the following passage of Valerius Flaceus (Argon VIII. 243).
Inde ubi sacrificas cum conjuge venit ad aras
Æsonides, unaque adeunt pariterque precari
Incipiunt. Ignem Pollux undamque jugalem