King Ritupama of Ayodhya desired to be present on this occasion, but the distance to Kundina was over one hundred yojanas. However, Nala in a most wonderful manner managed to do the distance within the appointed time, not without adventures on the way and the acquirement from his royal master of the whole science of dice-playing.

When they arrived at Kundina they found to their astonishment that no preparations were being made for Damayanti’s swayamvara, and discovered that they had been deceived by a false report.

From the remarkable way in which Ritupama’s chariot came rattling into Ayodhya, Damayanti suspected that it was driven by Nala and Nala only, but she was sore distressed when she saw Váhuka—so unlike her dear lord in appearance. Yet, as wonders were common in those days and the charioteer might, after all, be her dear husband in a natural disguise, she opened communication with him through her maid-servant, and by various indications satisfied herself that Váhuka was no other than her lost Nala.

With the consent of her father and mother she caused Váhuka to be brought to her apartments. She received him clad in a piece of red cloth, wearing matted locks and covered with dirt and dust. Explanations followed. The wind-god, invoked by Damayanti, testified that it was only to bring Nala to herself that the lovely queen had proclaimed her swayamvara in Ayodhya, and that she was faultless in the matter. Flowers descended from the air and celestial kettle-drums began to play.

Casting away all doubts about Damayanti, Nala put on the pure garment which had been given to him by the serpent, and thus regained his own beautiful form. “And, beholding her righteous lord in his own form, Bhima’s daughter of faultless limbs embraced him, and began to weep aloud. And King Nala also embraced Bhima’s daughter, devoted to him as before, and also his children, and experienced great delight. And, burying her face in his bosom, the beauteous Damayanti, of large eyes, began to sigh heavily, remembering her griefs. And, overwhelmed with sorrow, that tiger among men stood for some time clasping the dust-covered Damayanti of sweet smiles.”

After these events Nala proceeded to his own country of the Nishadhas and challenged his brother to a game of dice, offering to stake all the wealth he had acquired, and lovely Damayanti as well, against the kingdom of which he had been dispossessed. He gave his brother the choice of an alternative—the dice or battle. Pushkara willingly accepted the offer, remarking insultingly: “It is evident that Damayanti, adorned with this wealth of thine that I will win, will wait upon me like an Apsara in heaven upon Indra.” However, fortune had changed sides. Nala recovered his kingdom, but generously shared it with his unworthy brother, and everyone, of course, lived happily thereafter.

NOTES

I. Date of the compilation of the “Mahabharata.”—Like the “Ramayana,” the “Mahabharata” is based on popular legends of considerable antiquity which, according to European scholars, appear to have been collected together into a more or less connected whole at a comparatively recent date.

“The earliest direct evidence of the existence of an epic, with the contents of the ‘Mahabharata,’ comes to us from the rhetor Dion Chrysostom, who flourished in the second half of the first century A.D.; and it appears fairly probable that the information in question was then quite new, and was derived from mariners who had penetrated as far as the extreme south of India.... Since Megasthenes says nothing of this epic, it is not an improbable hypothesis that its origin is to be placed in the interval between his time and that of Chrysostom; for what ignorant sailors took note of would hardly have escaped his observation, more especially if what he narrates of Herakles and his daughter Pandai has reference really to Krishna and his sister, the wife of Arjuna; if, that is to say, the Pandu legend was actually current in his time.... As to the period when the final redaction of the work in its present shape took place, no approach even to direct conjecture is in the meantime possible, but, at any rate, it must have been some centuries after the commencement of our era.”[128]

II. Translation of the “Mahabharata” into Persian.—The following account of the translation of the “Mahabharata” into Persian, in the reign of the Mogul Emperor Akbar, is worth reading, as it exhibits an estimate of the great epic from the standpoint of a bigoted Muslim: