Hindoo Tales; Or, the Adventures of Ten Princes

by active 7th century Dandin

When everything for the funeral was arranged, she came into the private room, where the body had been laid, and there saw her husband fully recovered, and me sitting by him. Great was her delight and astonishment at this wonderful and sudden change; and having first embraced her husband, she threw her arms round me, and, with a voice broken by sobs of joy, said: "O, my darling son, how can I deserve such happiness?—I, who so cruelly abandoned you at your birth, and suffered you to be taken away, as if dead? but your father was not to blame for that; he, indeed, deserves to have been restored to life by you, and to have the happiness of seeing you. Cruel, indeed, was Târâvali, who, when she had received you again from Kuvera, did not bring you at once to me; but what could I expect from her? It is through her unkindness in leaving us that all this misfortune has happened; but I must not complain; I was not worthy, without previous suffering, to enjoy such great happiness. Come and embrace me."

Saying this, she again threw her arms round me, and kissed me repeatedly, trembling with emotion, and shedding many tears of joy. My father's feelings were scarcely less excited. He seemed to have risen from the lowest depth of misery to the summit of felicity, and esteemed himself more fortunate than even Indra the King of the Gods.

When we were all somewhat calmed, and I had explained to my father all that had occurred, I said: "There is much yet to be done; the king will soon find out the deception which has been practised, and send to arrest you again; so we must consider how we can defend ourselves."

My father answered: "This house is a very large one; the walls are strong; there are many secret passages; I have a great store of weapons; my servants are brave and faithful, so that we could hold out for several days. Besides this I have many friends in the city; most of the authorities will favour me; many of the soldiers will be on my side, and there are many persons discontented and ready to rebel against the king. Therefore, if we act prudently, we shall have much assistance, and be able to cut off that tyrant."

With this I entirely agreed, and we prepared for defence. As I had expected, the king, finding how he had been deceived, sent soldiers to take us; but, though they made many attempts, we drove them back day after day, with very small loss to ourselves.

Meanwhile, fearing lest we should at last be overpowered, if something more were not done, I determined, if possible, to seize the person of the king; and, as my father's house was not far from the palace, I began to make an underground passage inside, in order to reach his sleeping-room, the exact position of which I had learnt from my father. After digging for some distance, I came, to my great astonishment, into a large, lofty, well-lighted room, occupied by a number of women, among whom was a young lady of surpassing beauty, resembling the wife of Kâma, or the tutelary goddess of the city, who had hidden herself here to avoid the sight of so much wickedness above.

The women were equally astonished at seeing me, and ran away, alarmed, into other adjoining rooms. One old woman, however, remained behind, and, falling at my feet, said "Have pity on us poor helpless women; surely thou art a god, for no mortal could have thus found his way hither. O tell us why thou art come."

"Calm yourself," I answered, "You have nothing to fear from me. I am Arthapâla, the son of the minister Kâmapâla and the Princess Kantimati, and have come thus unexpectedly on you while making an underground passage from my father's house to the palace; but tell me who you all are, and how you come to be living here."

"O prince," she answered, "I had heard of your birth, but not of your preservation, and happy am I now to see you. Know that the young lady whom you have just seen is the granddaughter of your maternal grandfather, Chandasinha. The eldest son of that king died before his father, leaving his wife pregnant, and she lost her life in giving birth to this daughter, who was committed to my care. One day the king sent for me, and said: 'I intend this child when grown up to be given in marriage to Darpasâra, son of the King of Mâlwa; and, remembering the misconduct of her aunt, I am determined that nothing of the kind shall happen with her. I have therefore caused a spacious palace to be made underground, and have furnished it with provisions and all other necessaries for even a hundred years. I have great confidence in you; you will therefore go down into this subterranean dwelling, taking with you the princess and such attendants as you may think desirable, and will remain there until she is grown up, when I shall fetch you from below, and give her in marriage as I have intended.' So saying, he lifted up a small trap-door in the court-yard close to his own apartment, and showed me the steps leading to this place. The next day we all came down, and have remained here ever since. Twelve years have now passed, and the king seems to have forgotten us. I must tell you also that the princess, though destined by her grandfather for Darpasâra, was originally intended for you; for her mother, while the child was as yet unborn, promised that her daughter should become the wife of the son of Kantimati if he should ever return. Look on her, therefore, as your intended, and do what is best for us."

Having received this account from the old woman, I told her to have no fear on the princess's account, but to trust entirely in me, and that I would soon liberate them from their long and tedious imprisonment.