[15] The Prákrit word majjáo means “a cat” and also “my lover.”
Chapter XVIII.
So on the next day the king of Vatsa set out from Lávánaka for Kauśámbí, accompanied by his wives and his ministers, and as he advanced, shouts broke forth from his forces, that filled the plains like the waters of the ocean overflowing out of due time. An image would be furnished of that king advancing on his mighty elephant, if the sun were to journey in the heaven accompanied by the eastern mountain. That king, shaded with his white umbrella, shewed as if waited upon by the moon, delighted at having outdone the splendour of the sun. While he towered resplendent above them all, the chiefs circled around him, like the planets[1] in their orbits around the polar star. And those queens, mounted on a female elephant that followed his, shone like the earth-goddess and the goddess of Fortune accompanying him out of affection in visible shape. The earth, that lay in his path, dinted with the edges of the hoofs of the troops of his prancing steeds, seemed to bear the prints of loving nails, as if it had been enjoyed by the king. In this style progressing, the king of Vatsa, being continually praised by his minstrels, reached in a few days the city of Kauśámbí, in which the people kept holiday. The city was resplendent on that occasion, her lord[2] having returned from sojourning abroad. She was clothed in the red silk of banners, round windows were her expanded eyes, the full pitchers in the space in front of the gates were her two swelling breasts, the joyous shouts of the crowd were her cheerful conversation, and white palaces her smile.[3] So, accompanied by his two wives, the king entered the city, and the ladies of the town were much delighted at beholding him. The heaven was filled with hundreds of faces of fair ones standing on charming palaces, as if with the soldiers of the moon[4] that was surpassed in beauty by the faces of the queens, having come to pay their respects. And other women established at the windows, looking with unwinking eyes,[5] seemed like heavenly nymphs in aërial chariots, that had come there out of curiosity. Other women, with their long-lashed eyes closely applied to the lattice of the windows, made, so to speak, cages of arrows to confine love. The eager eye of one woman expanded with desire to behold the king, came, so to speak, to the side of her ear,[6] that did not perceive him, in order to inform it. The rapidly heaving breasts of another, who had run up hastily, seemed to want to leap out of her bodice with ardour to behold him. The necklace of another lady was broken with her excitement, and the pearl-beads seemed like tear-drops of joy falling from her heart. Some women, beholding Vásavadattá and remembering the former report of her having been burned, said as if with anxiety; “If the fire were to do her an injury at Lávánaka, then the sun might as well diffuse over the world darkness which is alien to his nature.” Another lady beholding Padmávatí said to her companion; “I am glad to see that the queen is not put to shame by her fellow-wife, who seems like her friend.” And others beholding those two queens, and throwing over them garlands of eyes expanded with joy so as to resemble blue lotuses, said to one another; “Surely Śiva and Vishṇu have not beheld the beauty of these two, otherwise how could they regard with much respect their consorts Umá and Śrí?” In this way feasting the eyes of the population, the king of Vatsa with the queens entered his own palace, after performing auspicious ceremonies. Such as is the splendour of a lotus-pool in windy weather, or of the sea when the moon is rising, such was at that period the wonderful splendour of the king’s palace. And in a moment it was filled with the presents, which the feudatories offered to procure good luck, and which foreshadowed the coming in of offerings from innumerable kings. And so the king of Vatsa, after honouring the chiefs, entered with great festivity the inner apartments, at the same time finding his way to the heart of every one present. And there he remained between the two queens, like the god of Love between Rati and Príti,[7] and spent the rest of the day in drinking and other enjoyments.
The next day, when he was sitting in the hall of assembly accompanied by his ministers, a certain Bráhman came and cried out at the door; “Protection for the Bráhmans! O king! certain wicked herdsmen have cut off my son’s foot in the forest without any reason.” When he heard that, the king immediately had two or three herdsmen seized and brought before him, and proceeded to question them. Then they gave the following answer; “O king, being herdsmen we roam in the wilderness, and there we have among us a herdsman named Devasena, and he sits in a certain place in the forest on a stone seat, and says to us ‘I am your king’ and gives us orders. And not a man among us disobeys his orders. Thus, O king, that herdsman rules supreme in the wood. Now to-day the son of this Bráhman came that way, and did not do obeisance to the herdsman king, and when we by the order of the king said to him—‘Depart not without doing thy reverence’—the young fellow pushed us aside, and went off laughing in spite of the admonition. Then the herdsman king commanded us to punish the contumacious boy by cutting off his foot. So we, O king, ran after him, and cut off his foot; what man of our humble degree is able to disobey the command of a ruler?” When the herdsmen had made this representation to the king, the wise Yaugandharáyaṇa, after thinking it over, said to him in private; “Certainly that place must contain treasure, on the strength of which a mere herdsman has such influence.[8] So let us go there.” When his minister had said this to him, the king made those herdsmen shew him the way, and went to that place in the forest with his soldiers and his attendants.
And while, after the ground had been examined, peasants were digging there, a Yaksha in stature like a mountain rose up from beneath it, and said, “O king, this treasure, which I have so long guarded, belongs to thee, as having been buried by thy forefathers, therefore take possession of it.” After he had said this to the king and accepted his worship, the Yaksha disappeared, and a great treasure was displayed in the excavation. And from it was extracted a valuable throne studded with jewels,[9] for in the time of prosperity a long series of happy and fortunate events takes place. The Lord of Vatsa took away the whole treasure from the spot in high glee, and after chastising those herdsmen returned to his own city. There the people saw that golden throne brought by the king, which seemed with the streams of rays issuing from its blood-red jewels to foretell[10] the king’s forceful conquest of all the regions, and which with its pearls fixed on the end of projecting silver spikes seemed to show its teeth as if laughing again and again when it considered the astonishing intellect of the king’s ministers;[11] and they expressed their joy in a charming manner, by striking drums of rejoicing so that they sent forth their glad sounds. The ministers too rejoiced exceedingly, making certain of the king’s triumph; for prosperous events happening at the very commencement of an enterprise portend its final success. Then the sky was filled with flags resembling flashes of lightning, and the king like a cloud rained gold on his dependants. And this day having been spent in feasting, on the morrow Yaugandharáyaṇa, wishing to know the mind of the king of Vatsa, said to him; “O king, ascend and adorn that great throne, which thou hast obtained by inheritance from thy ancestors.” But the king said, “Surely it is only after conquering all the regions that I can gain glory by ascending that throne, which those famous ancestors of mine mounted after conquering the earth. Not till I have subdued this widely-gemmed earth bounded by the main, will I ascend the great jewelled throne of my ancestors.” Saying this, the king did not mount the throne as yet. For men of high birth possess genuine loftiness of spirit. Thereupon Yaugandharáyaṇa being delighted said to him in private; “Bravo! my king! So make first an attempt to conquer the eastern region.” When he heard that, the king eagerly asked his minister; “When there are other cardinal points, why do kings first march towards the East?” When Yaugandharáyaṇa heard this, he said to him again; “The North, O king, though rich, is defiled by intercourse with barbarians, and the West is not honoured as being the cause of the setting of the sun and other heavenly bodies; and the South is seen to be neighboured by Rákshasas and inhabited by the god of death; but in the eastern quarter the sun rises, over the East presides Indra, and towards the East flows the Ganges, therefore the East is preferred. Moreover among the countries situated between the Vindhya and Himálaya mountains, the country laved by the waters of the Ganges is considered most excellent. Therefore monarchs who desire success march first towards the East, and dwell moreover in the land visited by the river of the gods.[12] For your ancestors also conquered the regions by beginning with the East, and made their dwelling in Hastinápura on the banks of the Ganges; but Śatáníka repaired to Kauśámbí on account of its delightful situation, seeing that empire depended upon valour, and situation had nothing to do with it.” When he had said this Yaugandharáyaṇa stopped speaking; and the king out of his great regard for heroic exploits said; “It is true that dwelling in any prescribed country is not the cause of empire in this world, for to men of brave disposition their own valour is the only cause of success. For a brave man by himself without any support obtains prosperity; have you never heard à propos of this the tale of the brave man?” Having said this, the lord of Vatsa on the entreaty of his ministers again began to speak, and related in the presence of the queens the following wonderful story.
Story of Vidúshaka.
In the city of Ujjayiní, which is celebrated throughout the earth, there was in former days a king named Ádityasena. He was a treasure-house of valour, and on account of his sole supremacy, his war chariot, like that of the sun,[13] was not impeded anywhere. When his lofty umbrella, gleaming white like snow, illuminated the firmament, other kings free from heat depressed theirs. He was the receptacle of the jewels produced over the surface of the whole earth, as the sea is the receptacle of waters. Once on a time, he was encamped with his army on the banks of the Ganges, where he had come for some reason or other. There a certain rich merchant of the country, named Gunavartman, came to the king bringing a gem of maidens as a present, and sent this message by the mouth of the warder. This maiden, though the gem of the three worlds, has been born in my house, and I cannot give her to any one else, only your Highness is fit to be the husband of such a girl. Then Gunavartman entered and shewed his daughter to the king. The king, when he beheld that maiden, Tejasvatí by name, illuminating with her brightness the quarters of the heavens, like the flame of the rays from the jewels in the temple of the god of Love, was all enveloped with the radiance of her beauty and fell in love with her, and, as if heated with the fire of passion, began to dissolve in drops of sweat. So he at once accepted her, who was fit for the rank of head queen, and being highly delighted made Gunavartman equal to himself in honour. Then, having married his dear Tejasvatí, the king thought all his objects in life accomplished, and went with her to Ujjayiní. There the king fixed his gaze so exclusively on her face, that he could not see the affairs of his kingdom, though they were of great importance. And his ear being, so to speak, riveted on her musical discourse could not be attracted by the cries of his distressed subjects. The king entered into his harem for a long time and never left it, but the fever of fear left the hearts of his enemies. And after some time there was born to the king, by the queen Tejasvatí, a girl welcomed by all, and there arose in his heart the desire of conquest, which was equally welcome to his subjects. That girl of exceeding beauty, who made the three worlds seem worthless as stubble, excited in him joy, and desire of conquest excited his valour. Then that king Ádityasena set out one day from Ujjayiní to attack a certain contumacious chieftain; and he made that queen Tejasvatí go with him mounted on an elephant, as if she were the protecting goddess of the host. And he mounted an admirable horse, that in spirit and fury resembled a torrent,[14] tall like a moving mountain, with a curl on its breast, and a girth. It seemed to imitate with its feet raised as high as its mouth, the going of Garuḍa which it had seen in the heaven, rivalling its own swiftness, and it lifted up its head and seemed with fearless eye to measure the earth, as if thinking, “what shall be the limit of my speed?” And after the king had gone a little way, he came to a level piece of ground, and put his horse to its utmost speed to shew it off to Tejasvatí. That horse, on being struck with his heel, went off rapidly, like an arrow impelled from a catapult, in some unknown direction, so that it became invisible to the eyes of men. The soldiers, when they saw that take place, were bewildered, and horsemen galloped in a thousand directions after the king, who was run away with by his horse, but could not overtake him. Thereupon the ministers with the soldiers, fearing some calamity, in their anxiety took with them the weeping queen and returned to Ujjayiní; there they remained with gates closed and ramparts guarded, seeking for news of the king, having cheered up the citizens.
In the meanwhile the king was carried by the horse in an instant to the impassable forest of the Vindhya hills, haunted by terrible lions. Then the horse happened to stand still, and the king was immediately distracted with bewilderment, as the great forest made it impossible for him to know whereabouts he was. Seeing no other way out of his difficulties, the king, who knew what the horse had been in a former birth, got down from his saddle, and prostrating himself before the excellent horse, said to him[15]: “Thou art a god; a creature like thee should not commit treason against his lord; so I look upon thee as my protector, take me by a pleasant path.” When the horse heard that, he was full of regret, remembering his former birth; and mentally acceded to the king’s request, for excellent horses are divine beings. Then the king mounted again, and the horse set out by a road bordered with clear cool lakes, that took away the fatigue of the journey; and by evening the splendid horse had taken the king another hundred yojanas and brought him near Ujjayiní. As the sun beholding his horses, though seven in number, excelled by this courser’s speed, had sunk, as it were through shame, into the ravines of the western mountain, and as the darkness was diffused abroad, the wise horse seeing that the gates of Ujjayiní were closed, and that the burning-place outside the gates was terrible at that time, carried the king for shelter to a concealed monastery of Bráhmans, that was situated in a lonely place outside the walls. And the king Ádityasena seeing that that monastery was a fit place to spend the night in, as his horse was tired, attempted to enter it. But the Bráhmans, who dwelt there, opposed his entrance, saying that he must be some keeper of a cemetery[16] or some thief. And out they poured in quarrelsome mood, with savage gestures, for Bráhmans who live by chanting the Sáma Veda, are the home of timidity, boorishness, and ill-temper. While they were clamouring, a virtuous Bráhman named Vidúshaka, the bravest of the brave, came out from that monastery. He was a young man distinguished for strength of arm, who had propitiated the fire by his austerities, and obtained a splendid sword from that divinity, which he had only to think of, and it came to him. That resolute youth Vidúshaka seeing that king of distinguished bearing, who had arrived by night, thought to himself that he was some god in disguise. And the well-disposed youth pushed away all those other Bráhmans, and bowing humbly before the king, caused him to enter the monastery. And when he had rested, and had the dust of the journey washed off by female slaves, Vidúshaka prepared for him suitable food. And he took the saddle off that excellent horse of his, and relieved its fatigue by giving it grass and other fodder. And after he had made a bed for the wearied king, he said to him,—“My lord, I will guard your person, so sleep in peace”—and while the king slept, that Bráhman kept watch the whole night at the door with the sword of the Fire-god in his hand, that came to him on his thinking of it.